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Shang Qinghua's teacup falls out of his nerveless hands, the delicate porcelain shattering across cold tile. 

"You've been what?!"

"Poisoned," Mobei Jun says, as calmly as if he's discussing the weather. He takes a sip of his cold tea. 

"My king!" Shang Qinghua wails, resisting the urge to grab Mobei Jun's cup and throw it on the ground too. "How can you be so calm?! We - we have to do something! We have to do something right now!"

"There is nothing to be done."

Shang Qinghua jumps to his feet and starts pacing, his mind already leaping ahead to all the poisons he remembers creating. He'll have to get in touch with Shen Qingqiu and ask him too; that encyclopedic bear trap anti-fan mind of his will definitely catch any details that Shang Qinghua has forgotten. They should already have the ingredients to create most antidotes, unless it's something that requires a 1000-year old magical night-blooming flower or some stupid shit like that, or worse, something that requires - Shang Qinghua freezes, struck by an awful thought. 

He whirls to face Mobei Jun, who is watching him pace with poorly concealed amusement. 

"My king, what is the name of the poison?"

"It is called 'A Remnant of Grace.'" 

Shang Qinghua blanches. Mobei Jun sobers at the expression on his face. 

"You know of it." 

Shang Qinghua nods. A Remnant of Grace is a rare, insidious demonic poison that slowly and silently strips away a demon's spiritual veins and meridians before attacking the vulnerable core. It renders all cultivation useless the longer it goes uncured, leaving the victim mortal and completely powerless. It's not commonly used as an assassination tool because it takes a while to ramp up, but once it reaches a demon's core, the effects become irreversible, and death is inevitable. It is usually seen as a cruel method of execution for political prisoners. 

Another reason it's not often used is because the cure is, of course, dual cultivation. No one wants their very expensive and rare poison to be nullified by a single night of [BEEP], but in this case, it's absolutely an advantage! An easy cure! Thank god! Shang Qinghua feels nearly giddy with relief. 

"What stage is the poison in, my king?"

"It is in the early stages, but if you know of it already, then you know that there is nothing to be done."

"What do you mean?! Of course there's something to be done! It's easy! All my king needs to do is dual cultivate with someone - "

"No," Mobei Jun says shortly. 

Shang Qinghua's smile freezes solid on his face. "No?" 

"No." Mobei Jun downs the rest of his tea. "This king will not."

Shang Qinghua sputters soundlessly, hands flailing. His thoughts run in panicked circles, trying to figure out why the script has gone so far off the rails. 

"M-my king! Why not?! It's the cure! It will solve everything!" 

Mobei Jun's eyes flash in warning. "This king is aware."

"Then - then why!"

A shadow of an expression flits across Mobei Jun's face, too quick to make sense of. His gaze seems particularly intense when it lands on Shang Qinghua. 

"This Mobei Jun refuses to concede to any enemy seeking to gain favor or advantage in this cowardly manner. Unless there is some other cure to be found, this king refuses to dual cultivate with some stranger."

He gets up and sweeps out of the room, leaving Shang Qinghua open-mouthed behind him, at a complete loss for what to do. 

 


 

A few hours later, Shang Qinghua sits slumped at his writing desk, head in his hands, despair in his heart. 

After conferring with the northern palace's head healer, who had diagnosed the poison, he now knows the timeline they're working with. 

A Remnant of Grace is a slow-acting poison, and the speed of the blight depends on the strength of the demon afflicted. Mobei Jun, as one of the most powerful demons in the entire demon realm, has more time than most. The healer estimates at least a year before it reaches his core. 

That's plenty of time to cure him…if only Mobei Jun would allow himself to be cured! 

After racking his brains and mentally reviewing the chapters in which the poison originally featured, Shang Qinghua is forced to conclude that his memory isn't lying to him. Unlike some of the other poisons he'd made in this vein, there is no alternate cure for a Remnant of Grace. 

Stupid world! Stupid author! he curses, pulling angrily at his hair. 

Worst of all, he doesn't understand why this happened in the first place! He's never written any weird aphrodisiac-fueled papaplotlines for Mobei Jun, not even a draft or a throwaway line. The worst he's done is vaguely imagine it, but he can't be held accountable for his thoughts! So why does his king have to undergo this stupid fuck or die trope when it had never been in the original story! Has Cucumber-bro changed the plot so much that the buildup of unused storylines is starting to pull other characters into an inescapable XXX event horizon? 

If so, Liu Qingge exists! So does Yue Qingyuan! Leave his king out of this! Shang Qinghua would like to remove Mobei Jun from the running for the dubious honor of secondary male lead!

And why is Mobei Jun being so stubborn? The cure is right there! Easily available! No thousand-year old flower required! Just one good round of XXX to cure him! 

Turning the situation over in his mind though, Shang Qinghua arrives at the unhappy conclusion that there's no one Mobei Jun can turn to for something this sensitive. Despite all his titles, his lands, his power, Mobei Jun is so isolated. He doesn't trust anyone. 

Sure, if people knew that Mobei Jun, King of the north, Regent of the demon realm, Right-hand general to Emperor Luo Binghe, needed a little bit of help with dual cultivation, there would be a queue of eager volunteers spanning from the northern desert all the way down to the southern seas! But there is no way in hell that Mobei Jun would ever consider it, if his testy response today was any indicator of his willingness. Plus, releasing information about the poisoning is an awful idea. Just hearing that Mobei Jun has been weakened could cause their enemies to try their hand at a coup. 

The Mobei clan has plenty of alliances they might turn to, but they're demon alliances. They would just as easily take advantage of this to kill Mobei Jun, or demand some concession or humiliation from him first. And the shame of having to ask for help with something like this...the entire Mobei clan would lose face. 

Even within the Mobei clan, there would be infighting about how to best proceed, if Mobei Jun continues being stubborn (guaranteed). Plus, Linguang Jun is still out there, just waiting for the opportunity to finish the job he started. For those exact reasons, the only people who know what's happened are Mobei Jun, the head healer who diagnosed him, Shang Qinghua, and two of his king's most trustworthy clan elders. 

This means that Shang Qinghua has the only working brain capable of finding a solution. He tugs a little harder at his hair, tearing up from the stress. 

My king, why won't you just dual cultivate with someone and get it over with! 

 

---

 

The two Mobei clan elders hold a strategic planning session with everyone in the know, in which two possible courses of action are established. 

The first and easiest way out would be find someone to do the deed with as quickly as possible, like visiting a top tier house of pleasure or hiring a discreet high end escort or several. Mobei Jun rejects this plan entirely, to the protests of both elders.  

 

When Mobei Jun retires to his bedchambers the following night to finish up the day's remaining paperwork, he has Shang Qinghua in tow because he needs more input on the trade issue of the week. Thus, it's Shang Qinghua and not Mobei Jun who opens the bedroom door to see eight extremely beautiful and finely dressed courtesans awaiting within. 

Shang Qinghua slams the door shut immediately. Sweating, he turns to face Mobei Jun, who is staring at him impatiently. 

"Haha! Um, m-my king! Maybe we should, uh...go back to the discussion room! There's more space, and uh, I really need to spread out all these scrolls, and your desk isn't big enough, and - "

Mobei Jun's face darkens ominously. "What's inside."

"Nothing, nothing! Nothing at all, my king! How about we just uh, take a break really quick and, uh, get a snack, or something - " Mobei Jun moves past him and reaches for the door. Shang Qinghua drops everything he's holding and plasters himself against the doorframe, bracing for a kick. 

Mobei Jun doesn't kick him. He does distastefully peel Shang Qinghua off the door frame, finger by finger, and open the door despite Shang Qinghua begging him not to. 

Shang Qinghua hears the whisper of eight sets of silk robes falling to the floor and a chorus of respectful greetings in soft voices. Part of him howls that he didn't get to see that heavenly sight for sore eyes. Another part of him is already racing to do damage control. 

Mobei Jun slams the door shut, his face thunderous. Frost races out from him like a murderous tide, spidering across the floor and up the walls, leaving Shang Qinghua curled up on a tiny island of frost-free tile. Dark qi fills the air like a cloud of black smoke, malevolent. Mobei Jun's eyes are incandescent with fury, his demon mark glowing bright blue. He snarls once and reaches for the door again, dripping killing intent. 

At great personal risk to himself, Shang Qinghua flings himself up off the floor and clutches Mobei Jun's powerful forearm. 

"My king!" he cries, hanging off Mobei Jun's arm. "It's not their fault! They were probably just hired to - for, to provide services! We need to find out who hired them! Please don't kill them, my king! Exercise your mercy!"

At least half of those women were probably supposed to belong to Luo Binghe at some point in time. Probably all of them, considering the odds. He can't allow his king to cold-bloodedly kill potential wives of the protagonist just because the story is in the epilogue! There's probably some kind of awful karmic vengeance waiting for him if he does that! 

Mobei Jun seethes visibly, glaring at him, but he doesn't turn Shang Qinghua into an icicle in his fury. He jerks his arm to toss Shang Qinghua aside and wrenches the door open again. 

"Out!!" he roars. The eight girls file out quickly with no complaint, not wanting to risk Mobei Jun's foul mood. Mobei Jun grabs the wrist of the last one, making her yelp. "Who hired you," he snarls, frost crackling threateningly over his knuckles. 

The scared girl drops the name of the direct subordinate of one of the Mobei elders, and Mobei Jun shoves her away, his face murderous. "See them gone from the palace grounds," he snaps at one of the guards who have come running, attracted by the commotion. 

"My king, he meant well!" Shang Qinghua tries, hastily picking scrolls off the floor. This is a blatant lie, he personally thinks it was a terrible idea! His king doesn't tolerate strangers in his personal space, everyone knows that. This plan was a failure from the start! 

Mobei Jun is not in a magnanimous mood either, and summarily tosses the clan elder into mandatory secluded cultivation in the black ice caves. That puts a hard stop to any further attempts at Plan #1. 

 

---

 

The second, more difficult way out would be to not disclose the poisoning and find someone to marry as quickly as possible, which is likely what triggered this whole mess in the first place. 

Shang Qinghua would bet good money that it was one of the four other noble demon families of the north getting impatient with Mobei Jun's lack of interest in taking a consort. If it wasn't them, there are 600+ displaced women in the market for a powerful demonic husband after Luo Binghe lovingly took up a life of monogamous bliss. The poison could have come from any number of candidates looking to force Mobei Jun's hand, but that doesn't mean that marriage isn't a fitting answer to the current problem. 

He ignores a weird feeling, like a stampede of black moon rhinoceros pythons flattening his heart, as he makes the suggestion of marriage, detailing the benefits of an alliance with several high ranking demonic families while murderously wondering which of them had dared to poison his king. He even puts together binders with illustrations and qualifications for his king to review, like a real matchmaker! 

His king takes one look at the binders and flatly refuses. Not only does he refuse, he gets angry about it! Plunging the entire room into a deep chill with his bad temper and making Shang Qinghua shiver and cower behind the nearest available furniture! He ignores the remaining Mobei elder who suggests the same thing, absolutely vehement in his denial, his dark scowl cold enough to frost over the sun! With one clipped sentence, Mobei Jun makes it clear that a mandatory and very unfun session of secluded cultivation in the black ice caves is in the future of anyone who goes behind his back to arrange a marriage for him. That puts a stop to Plan #2. 

The black moon rhinoceros pythons trampling Shang Qinghua's sore heart disperse. The feelings of overbearing dread and worry over his king's fate do not, because now they're all out of ideas and still no closer to convincing Mobei Jun towards the cure. 

 

---

 

There...is a third possible course of action, but Shang Qinghua doesn't even give voice to it because he thinks he might actually die if he says it out loud. Just thinking about it makes him all sweaty. 

And besides, Luo Binghe would never agree anyways! 

Haha...right? 

No. No no no. Shen Qingqiu would kill him for even daring to suggest it, and then Luo Binghe would set whatever was left of him on fire because he made Shen Qingqiu mad. Either way, he would die, so he definitely doesn't give it any more thought! 

Only he does . He can't help it! Because if Mobei Jun doesn't find someone to dual cultivate with, he will die within one year.

 


 

Mobei Jun takes this realization much more calmly than Shang Qinghua. When Shang Qinghua confirms, again, that there is no other cure besides dual cultivation, Mobei Jun remains perfectly composed. Shang Qinghua wishes he wasn't! He wishes his king would rage, and let his bad temper out, and act spoiled, and demand to be cured at once! His king can't die to something like this! He just can't! 

Mobei Jun does none of that. He has no immediate heir, so he starts looking through his family tree for an appropriate successor to his title. Making the necessary preparations for his own upcoming death like it's going to happen within one month instead of one year, like he's already committed to his fate. 

Shang Qinghua watches him do this, sitting in the chair next to Mobei Jun's writing desk, his knee bouncing with frustrated energy, one foot tapping an increasingly faster rhythm on the thick carpet of the study. The deep injustice of it chokes him. The hopelessness of the situation is unbearable. He glances at his king, hoping to see his icy anger, or frustration, or fury, or something at the stupidity of it all! 

There is nothing on Mobei Jun's face except quiet resignation. 

Shang Qinghua bursts to his feet abruptly, unable to bear it any longer. 

"I'll do it!" he shouts, furious. 

Mobei Jun stares at him, startled. He puts the heavy book of bloodlines down.

Shang Qinghua's brain finally catches up to his mouth and the bravado in him seeps away like a receding tide. "I - I mean - " he stutters, already preparing his apologies. 

"You'll do what?" Mobei Jun asks.

Shang Qinghua swallows tensely. He glances at the heavy book underneath Mobei Jun's hand, thinks of the tired acceptance in his king's eyes at his inevitable fate. He straightens and tilts his chin up decisively. 

"My king. Please permit this servant to cultivate with you in order to cure you of this poison."

Mobei Jun stares at him for so long that Shang Qinghua starts to fidget. A trickle of cold sweat rolls down the back of his neck. This was a bad idea, a bad idea, such a bad - 

"Are you certain?" Mobei Jun finally asks. His blue stare is very, very intense. 

Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, my king?! 

"Yes," Shang Qinghua says fiercely, hands clenched into fists. "My king already knows that this servant would never do this to seek any kind of favor or advantage."

"Then why?"

"Because your death is completely unacceptable to me, my king! This one is willing! This servant will do anything to ensure that my king survives this!" Shang Qinghua bows down onto one knee, heedless of his dignity.

He feels incredibly stupid, making a big bold declaration like this. That sort of thing should be reserved for the protagonist, not cannon fodder #217! And saying it like it's some kind of hardship for him, when his king is so beautiful - when he's had so many daydreams about - 

Salting the wound, the System chimes in. 

【+100 cool points! Looking cool, host!】

Shang Qinghua grits his teeth and turns off the notifications. When had those come back?! He squares his shoulders and looks up at his king. 

He does not retract the offer! 

Mobei Jun looks at the book, then back at him. Shang Qinghua wishes he'd made Mobei Jun a teensy bit more transparent with his facial expressions. What are you thinking right now, my king?!

Coming to some kind of decision, Mobei Jun stands up very suddenly. He reaches for his belt and starts undoing it, letting his outer robe fall to the ground. He's - he's undressing?! Shang Qinghua bolts to his feet with a squeak and grabs his hands, stopping him. 

"My king! What are you doing?!"

Mobei Jun stills under his fingers. "You said you would assist this king."

"I - I didn't mean right now!"

It's not like Shang Qinghua is going to lay Mobei Jun down on his writing desk and just - just do him right there!! This is his king! He deserves - roses, and, and candles, and perfumes, and things! What the hell! 

"Then when?"

"I…" Shang Qinghua's mouth feels very dry. "Give this servant a week or so, my king. This one needs to make um. Some preparations."

Mobei Jun gives him a long, unreadable look before pulling his outer robe back on, to Shang Qinghua's immense relief. "Five days. Delegate your duties to others and make your preparations."

"Y-yes, my king! Understood, my king."

Mobei Jun stares at him some more, making Shang Qinghua sweat for a long minute before he gathers his cloak and sweeps out of the room. "Come to my bedchambers that night," he calls before the door clicks shut behind him. 

 

Shang Qinghua sinks down to the floor on shaking legs. He whimpers a little with disbelief. Did...did he really just proposition his king? More importantly, didn't his king just agree to it?!

Oh god. Oh shit. Uhh. Fuck. Fuck! His hands are so sweaty. 

The thing is, he's never had sex before. He's especially never had sex with anyone as stunning as his king, who only deserves the best. Shang Qinghua is far from the best, and maybe, possibly, closer to being the worst. He is just a virgin with one dick, two hands, a lot of enthusiasm, and no technique! That has to change, pronto!

Oh god, is Mobei Jun a virgin?! That…can't be possible, right? There are demons literally lining up in hopes of getting a glimpse of him when he holds court, and his king is so strong, and so beautiful, and - Shang Qinghua thinks of Mobei Jun's emphatic refusal to marry or [BEEP] someone for the cure and his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. 

Fuck! 

If his king is a virgin, he deserves to have a god-level first time, not Shang Qinghua pawing awkwardly at his gorgeous, sculpted body! Mobei Jun deserves succubus-queen level of multiple orgasms for his first time, not, not Shang Qinghua! He wants to wail! 

My king! It's not like this servant can ask if you've done it before!

...

And why is this old man the one who has to top?! 



Chapter Text

What follows in the next few days is as much 'research' as Shang Qinghua can get his hands on.

He scouts shelf after shelf of novels with yellow covers, looking for insight, and finds only weird kinks and a lot of mediocre Chunshan ripoffs. The artfully rendered pornographic still-lifes offered in discreet little booklets just can't hold a candle to pixiv's bountiful R-18 sections. He delves into the world's equivalent of softcore, which is...very poetic, vaguely erotic, and not very helpful as to what to actually do uh, mechanically. Where is xianxia Cosmopolitan's '17 Tips on How to Get Your Man Screaming in Bed!' when you need it most!

He finally lowers his pride (further) and asks his very good friend Shen Qingqiu for tips.

"Why do you need to know so badly?" Shen Qingqiu asks, scowling behind his fan as Shang Qinghua pressures him ceaselessly, with tears. Cucumber-bro's face is a little pink, but he sits straight-backed and unrelenting, the peerless protector of butt stuff knowledge.

Shang Qinghua wrings his hands. Come on, Shen-dada! Cut this old man some slack!! He needs this information. Needs it! He wilts to the floor, trying not to weep at the unfairness of it all. He just wants this to be good for his king! He's got one shot to shoot and he doesn't want to suck at sex when so much is on the line. Is that so much to ask?!

"Because my king got hit by one of my stupid fuck or die poisons and it's killing him and I offered to do him and he said yes and now I need it to be good for him because I have to top and I don't know how!!!"

The truth comes out in one long wail like a ten car pile-up.

Shen Qingqiu's eyebrows have jumped up to his hairline, and he's fanning himself coolly. Shang Qinghua knows he looks pathetic right now, crying on the floor of Shen Qingqiu's bamboo hut. He decides to lean into it, sniffling and channeling every sad dog fundraising commercial he's ever had to sit through. Luo Binghe does this all the time, doesn't he? Is that what gets Cucumber-bro's cucumber going?

To his shock, it totally works!

Shen Qingqiu sighs and slowly lowers his fan. He looks annoyed but thoughtful as he fixes Shang Qinghua with a long look.

“Which poison?” 

“A Remnant of Grace.” 

“Oh.” Shen Qingqiu makes a face. "You really have to…to him?" He gives Shang Qinghua a deeply judgmental once-over that speaks volumes on his assessment of Shang Qinghua's top potential.  

Bro…that really hurts. This one is still a man, isn't he?

Shang Qinghua nods nonetheless, setting his self-esteem aside with the ease of long practice. "Remember when this showed up, it was with that really spicy demoness with four arms and extreme big dick energy, and they had to go for like five rounds because she kept wanting to ride him so the cure wasn't working, and Binghe had to subjugate - "

Shen Qingqiu makes a strangled sound and tries to silence him. "Binghe is right there. Right there, in the other room!" he hisses at Shang Qinghua, red-faced. Then, because he can't resist, he starts fanning himself fiercely, speaking in a low, angry voice, full of the intense self-righteousness of a seasoned armchair warrior!

"- and Guzhu Jun deserved better than getting tossed into the harem afterward and forgotten about! She had such a cool character design, and her story arc was really compelling, and she totally could have solved her clan's problems on her own if she wasn't so busy losing her marbles every time she saw Luo Binghe! Did you even remember her name?! Honestly, she's your own OC and you don't even remember her name! Plus, the entire Remnant of Grace storyline would have worked much better with Hanliang Jun and it would have made way more sense because she was actually a political hostage and -"

Shang Qinghua nods mournfully and pretends to be listening really hard to Cucumber-bro's angry ranting as it goes in one ear and out the other. Always giving concrit when it's not asked for, this backseat driver! And It's easy to forget an OC's name after you create a thousand+ characters, okay? Plus, the readers had been absolutely clear what they wanted from the poisoning with this particular wife.

Push! Her!! Down!!!

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky always lived to serve. And now he's the one destined to do the pushing down! Internally, he weeps big, fat tears of karmic injustice. His king deserves better than this!

When Shen Qingqiu gets tired of hurling insults like knives or (more likely) runs out of breath, he goes back to looking at Shang Qinghua like he's a bucket of worms that just manifested in his house. Shang Qinghua does his very best to give off the impression of a kicked puppy.

Please, bro, please! Release the information!

"You should talk to Binghe," Shen Qingqiu finally says.

Shang Qinghua blanches, all the blood draining out of his face. He thinks he might prefer to jump into the Endless Abyss than ask Luo Binghe about something like this.

"I'm serious," Shen Qingqiu insists. He's starting to look a little red in the face, which only heightens Shang Qinghua's horror at the direction this conversation is going. "You - he - he would be able to tell you what you need to know."

"Didn't you say he sucked?!" Shang Qinghua hisses. "Didn't you say that it was like being chainsawed in half by a serial killer?! Didn't you die?! Why would I want tips from Mr. Chainsaw Massacre?!"

"Keep your voice down!" Shen Qingqiu hisses back, now bright red. "He's sensitive about that! And he's improved! Greatly improved!"

"Look, bro," Shang Qinghua says slowly. "I...do not want to know the details of how Luo Binghe, my precious son, [BEEP]s your - "

Shen Qingqiu doesn't let him finish, launching out of his chair to smack Shang Qinghua about the head with his fan. "Shut up! You were the one who asked!"

"Shizun?" Luo Binghe peeks his head in at the commotion to see them rolling around in a snarling ball, hissing and slapping furiously at each other.

"Fine! Go have shitty sex! Who needs this master's help? Who needs his advice?!"

"Shizun?" Luo Binghe asks again, this time shooting dark looks at Shang Qinghua. "Does Shizun want Shang-shishu's visit to end early?"

"Yes!" Shen Qingqiu says, struggling upright and trying to retain his refined immortal airs despite his crown knocked all askew.

"No!" Shang Qinghua wails, hurling himself at his leg and clinging tightly. "I'm sorry! This miserable servant begs your advice! I don't want it to suck! I don't want to chainsaw him!"

Shen Qingqiu shakes his leg angrily a few times before sighing very deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Binghe," he says resignedly. "This master has...a favor to ask you."

"Anything, Shizun," Luo Binghe says fervently, sweeping into the room and steadfastly ignoring Shang Qinghua as he tenderly rearranges Shen Qingqiu's crown. Shen Qingqiu sighs again before frowning down at Shang Qinghua.

Shang Qinghua recoils so quickly that he leaves speed lines behind. Luo Binghe gives him a nasty look as he finishes up with Shen Qingqiu's hair. The combined force of their twin glares could set a lesser man on fire! Shang Qinghua puts the table between him and this ultimate power couple so that it can ignite first.

"Binghe, Shang-shishu has some…questions to ask you. This master would appreciate it if you could answer them to the best of your ability. Consider it an interview of sorts."

"Oh?" Luo Binghe says, turning his eyes on Shang Qinghua. That one word is so ominous coming from him. So ominous! His eyes flicker red for a moment as he stares Shang Qinghua down. Shang Qinghua makes himself smaller and stifles his reflexive whimper.

"Yes. Try not to bully him too much." He looks at Shang Qinghua cowering behind the tea table, and snorts. "Maybe just a little."

"Yes, Shizun," Luo Binghe says, eyes shining.

Shang Qinghua lights a preemptive candle for himself. Endure it, Shang Qinghua! Be brave! This is for your king!

 


 

Luo Binghe shoos him to the other room for the interview, coincidentally as far away from his precious Shizun as possible.

Shang Qinghua is sweating bullets. He's never been alone with Luo Binghe for more than a minute, always able to count on the insulating bulwark of his king or Shen Qingqiu's distracting presence to run interference.

Sure, Luo Binghe may be his precious son, but as his doting father, Shang Qinghua is incredibly aware of Binghe's immense capacity for cruelty and playing with his food. Binghe might be a little gentler in this version, but that doesn't mean that he's nice by any means. Any tenderness in him is solely reserved for his precious Shizun. Anyone who isn't his Shizun might as well be a speck of dirt on the bottom of his boots. Shang Qinghua, as someone in the unenviable position of being Shen Qingqiu's friend/acquaintance/coworker/confidante/whatever-the-fuck-they-are, who takes away from his time with Luo Binghe, is one of the worst specks of all!

Now Luo Binghe's unfriendly eyes focus on Shang Qinghua without anything to cushion the weight of his attention. Shang Qinghua feels like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass during high noon. Please, Binghe! Spare your poor father!

"Well, Shang Qinghua. Why are you here?" Luo Binghe's eyes gleam red, chilling. "Don't waste my time."

Shang Qinghua sighs at the downgraded address, but it's to be expected! He sits up straight, like he's about to give a report on the status of Cang Qiong Sect back in his spy days, for familiarity's sake.

"My esteemed and powerful Lord Luo! Please teach this humble master the best ways to please a partner in bed!" He bows deeply and respectfully, hands fisted on his knees.

Luo Binghe blinks slowly as he regards Shang Qinghua with open surprise. "Who is this...partner?"

"Er, that is - um. It's for the purpose of curing a specific poison, so it doesn't matter who it is! But this one wants the experience to be um, good, since this master needs to uh, be the giver. Of pleasure." He bows again, feeling his ears turn red. "This humble one is in your competent hands, Lord Luo!"

"Oh. Who asked you?" Luo Binghe gives him an appraising, dismissive look, identical to Shen Qingqiu's from earlier. Truly a married couple in so many ways, huh...

Shang Qinghua grits his teeth and keeps his smile fixed in place. "This servant offered."

"How impressive. This person must be deeply important to Shang Qinghua for him to go out of his way to bother Shizun about it." To bother me about it, is the threatening undertone.

Shang Qinghua gulps nervously. "Ah, no, it's uh, it's simply a favor!"

Luo Binghe tilts his head, unamused. “If it’s simply a favor, couldn’t you have figured it out yourself?” 

“No, I, um, i-it’s for an important friend! This servant didn't want to disappoint.”

"What a close...friend, to inspire such a selfless favor." He smiles thinly at Shang Qinghua's embarrassed sputtering. "Or perhaps not? Does Shang Qinghua seek to hold this favor over their head for leverage later? How ambitious."

"No! No! It's not like that at all, Lord Luo!" Shang Qinghua flails his arms wildly.

Why are you making this poor servant sound like such a villain, Luo Binghe?! As if he’s some kind of lecherous old man with dirty designs upon an innocent maiden! 

"Then what is it like? Speak clearly."

"This is to save their life! They were struck by a poison that requires dual cultivation to cure. If I don't do this, they'll die!"

"Dual cultivation for the purpose of curing a poison doesn't need to be pleasurable," Luo Binghe says coldly. "It simply has to happen. Why do you need to learn how to give pleasure when it's not necessary?" 

Shang Qinghua's jaw nearly drops to the floor! Doesn't need to be pleasurable? Coming from you, Luo Binghe?! The hypocrisy! It chokes!!

"It's totally necessary!" he shouts, panicked. "I have to! It has to be good for him too!"

"Why is it so important?"

"Because I don't want to hurt him!" Shang Qinghua wails, covering his red face. "I'd hate myself if m - if he let me do this and I hurt him! Please, Luo Binghe! Lord Luo! This humble one is begging you! I don't want to hurt my k - my friend!"

He flings himself into another deep bow, mind already shifting into overdrive with contingency plans. If Luo Binghe won't help him, then he'll have to...what, go to Mu-shidi? Who else does he know of who would know about something like this -

Luo Binghe clears his throat, and Shang Qinghua raises his head, feeling hopeless and slightly tearful.

To his shock, Luo Binghe is looking at him with something like...sympathy? His eyes are a little wistful, faraway.

"Ah," he says. "I see. Perhaps this disciple may be of help after all."

Shang Qinghua really does tear up, thanking Luo Binghe profusely through his wailing. The stallion protagonist has a heart! He really has a heart! Those trembling maiden sensitivities were swayed by the power of love and good sex! Cucumber-bro, you've really done such a good job, this old man has to praise you! This version truly is an upgrade from the original goods!

Luo Binghe sighs at the waterworks as he waits for Shang Qinghua to get it together. Hypocrite! Shang Qinghua quickly wipes his face and sits up straight, back to serious in a heartbeat. He starts searching in his qiankun ring for note-taking supplies, unloading paper, brushes, inksticks, and all related paraphernalia onto the low writing desk in the room.

Now that it's actually happening, he can't lie, he's kinda excited about being taught by the ultimate stallion, Luo Binghe, conqueror of 600+ beauties! The fact that Luo Binghe has conquered exactly one (1) beauty (man) in this world does not dampen the excitement one bit. It's about the potential! The potential!!

The stallion himself does not look particularly enthusiastic, looking at Shang Qinghua like he's a particularly odious but necessary chore as Shang Qinghua scrambles to set up his paper, nearly fumbling the inkstone.

"You're really taking notes?" Luo Binghe asks, incredulous.

"Of course I am, Lord Luo!" he says, hastily grinding the ink and dipping his pinky in to test the consistency. "This information is extremely important, and this master seeks to learn only from the best! Perhaps this one should call you Shizun? Ahaha - "

Luo Binghe's eyes go flat. "Don't."

Shang Qinghua shuts up so quickly he hears his teeth clack. Ink finally ready, he dips his brush and poises it over the paper, looking to Luo Binghe as he prepares his mental list of questions.

This student is ready to hear your wisdom, Luo-shifu!

 


 

Shang Qinghua learns a truly distressing amount of information about Luo Binghe and Cucumber-bro's sex life. He thinks he's going to be inspired scarred for eternity.

He asks his many questions, and Luo Binghe answers them. Luo Binghe, slowly realizing that he has a trapped receptive audience to listen to him wax lyrical about Shen Qingqiu, positively blossoms. In addition to the impromptu sex ed, Shang Qinghua also gets front row seats to the advance screening of Luo Binghe's one-man production, 'Ode to Shizun.' 

He thinks he pulls a muscle trying to keep a straight face as Luo Binghe, starry-eyed, sings praises about Shen Qingqiu's beauty and prowess through various flowery anecdotes which leave Shang Qinghua reeling at the TMI. 

Truly, TMI! TMI! This old man would like to unlearn some of the things he's heard today, please! 

For example, he learns that Luo Binghe is shockingly enthusiastic about getting topped. So much so that he had experimented copiously in preparation! While incredibly horrifying on a personal level, the information is very helpful. Thanks for taking one for the team, Bingmei!

Shang Qinghua takes extensive, detailed notes. He draws diagrams. Luo Binghe corrects his diagrams and adds helpful illustrations where applicable. Luo Binghe, why are you so good at this? That scholarly upbringing on Qing Jing Peak has really paid off, hasn't it?

He is never, ever, ever going to be able to look Shen Qingqiu in the face ever again.

My king! Please appreciate this servant's efforts! This servant is sacrificing this one true friendship that stretches across worlds on the altar of TMI in order to give you a good experience!

At some point, he hits peak TMI and gets over it. His tolerance builds steadily until by the end he can almost pretend they're talking about someone else, and not his friend and his friend's husband, doing [BEEP] and [BEEP] and [BEEP] in bed.


"And do you have a plan of attack?" Luo Binghe asks as Shang Qinghua finally finishes writing and sits back to shake out his sore wrist.

"Plan of attack?" Shang Qinghua echoes, bewildered. "Uh...this servant will show up at the appointed time, and then...we dual cultivate?"

"No seduction? No foreplay?"

Shang Qinghua, long desensitized to the horrible words coming out of Luo Binghe's mouth, frowns and actually considers it.

"I mean…this servant isn't sure what m - he would like?"

"Probably a romantic at heart," Luo Binghe muses, tapping his chin. "Snow drifting down from the ceiling…white silk sheets on the bed, surrounded by frostflowers and crystal roses." He smirks at Shang Qinghua, his eyes glimmering with badly concealed amusement.

Shang Qinghua starts sweating nervously.

Hey...what's with this winter imagery?! He'd been so careful to mask the identity of the 'important friend,' so why does it feel like Luo Binghe knows exactly who he's asking about?!

He laughs weakly. "Aha...ha, my Lord Luo has such...interesting ideas! This one will of course take them into consideration."

Luo Binghe is still watching him with that calculating grin. "This friend of Shang-shishu's is quite lucky," he says cheerfully. "They would be so grateful if they knew the efforts that Shang-shishu had gone to in order to ensure their...satisfaction." The casual way he says this makes it sound like a threat.

Shang Qinghua nearly leaps to his feet in horror! Images of his boss's boss swinging by afterwards to say 'congrats on the sex!' fill his horrified mind.

"He can't know!!" he blurts out. "He absolutely cannot know! Begging Lord Luo's mercy, you must not tell him!"

Luo Binghe's horrible smirk curls up at the edges. "Ah, I didn't mention telling anyone? How would I know who to tell? Unless Shang-shishu is saying that this is a mutual… friend?"

Bullying! The bullying has started! That's his cue to scram outta here!

Shang Qinghua starts to hastily collect his many pages of notes. "Thanking Lord Luo for the um, very extensive and enlightening talk. It was extremely helpful! Lord Luo is truly skilled and massively talented in every way! This master must take his leave right now at this very moment and review these notes for uh, better retention. Please give this master's grateful regards to Cu- Shen-shixiong!"

Luo Binghe gets up gracefully, crossing his arms and smirking as he watches Shang Qinghua scrabble nervously with his papers.

"This one was glad to be of help," he says, inclining his head mockingly as Shang Qinghua pulls out the talisman that will take him directly back to his king's throne room. Then, Luo Binghe makes direct eye contact and grins, knowing. "Let him know that I'll expect his feedback next time I visit the northern palace."

Shang Qinghua activates the talisman, sweating profusely. He's gonna pretend he didn't hear that last part!!

 


 

Safely back in his bedroom, Shang Qinghua really does review the notes, carefully transcribing his hastily-scribbled shorthand into a neat, legible copy, hidden behind an unassuming book cover. He even cuts out and glues the diagrams into the book with sticky paste. He went through two circles of hell for this information, okay?! It needs to be lovingly preserved!

When he's finished with that, he spreads out his small collection of pornography and considers his game plan. He still has one day to work with before The Cure is scheduled.

There are techniques to review. Things to buy. Many things to try out! After all, what kind of sex researcher would he be if he didn't make sure his source(s) were sound? Humming an upbeat song, he starts undoing his belt.

He's going to be a busy man!

Chapter Text

The rest of the week passes by too quickly. At the scheduled time, Shang Qinghua finds himself dallying in front of Mobei Jun's bedroom door, trying to work up enough courage to go in. He doesn't feel prepared, but he's in too deep to back out now! 

"That's what he said," he mumbles to himself before fighting back slightly hysterical, panicked laughter. 

Get it together, Shang Qinghua! You have a job to do today, and it's to do your king and do him good!  

He doesn't think Mobei Jun has to finish in order for the cure to work, but Shang Qinghua will feel like the most selfish person in the world if he doesn't get his king off! The very least Mobei Jun can get from this whole horrible experience is an orgasm. He definitely deserves multiple! But Shang Qinghua is just one man with one dick and mediocre endurance, and Mobei Jun is the most beautiful man he's ever laid eyes on. If 小 Qinghua can last long enough to wring out one great good decent orgasm from his king, then he's counting it as a win. Realistic goals are important! 

He can do this! 

He takes one last fortifying breath, knocks twice, then strides into his king's bedchambers with much more confidence than he actually feels.  

Mobei Jun is already in bed, reclined gracefully against the cushions and wearing a single inner robe of cerulean blue silk. The rest of his clothing lies in a discarded pile on the floor, like he'd stripped out of it while waiting for Shang Qinghua to get there. His eyes flicker in the dim light, reflecting in eerie blue glints as he tracks Shang Qinghua's every movement, predatory. Shang Qinghua immediately feels his hands get sweaty. 

"My king!" he greets, as if this is just another normal day, and he's not here for a session of prearranged, medically-necessary sex. 

It's...a little hard for him to look directly at Mobei Jun. Shang Qinghua's nervousness and horniness levels are already cranked up as high as they can go, and seeing his king sitting regally on the bed, waiting for him in what is essentially lingerie is sort of making Shang Qinghua lose his mind! 

He chatters to fill the silence, unpacking the supplies he brought with shaking hands. The supplies are all lube. He went overboard and brought five jars. Haha. Better to be overprepared than under-oiled!

"Ah, my king, this servant is here as previously discussed! Thanking my king for the week of planning as it was very uh, fruitful and informative, and hopefully this servant will manage to perform to my king's expectations! But maybe temper those expectations just a little...? Haha! Anyways! I hope my king doesn't mind that this servant brought some, um, some supplies to make it easier! Uh, not that this one expects it to be hard - or er, I mean - difficult!!"

He trails off, dawdling and trying to gather his nerves, arranging and rearranging the five little pots on the bedside table. When he finally dares to meet Mobei Jun's eyes, he squeaks and falls silent at the simmering... something in them that pins him in place as easily as a hand to his throat.  

"Undress," Mobei Jun says shortly. 

Shang Qinghua starts stripping immediately, his lizard brain hardwired to respond to Mobei Jun's command voice. He gets down to his last two layers before his actual brain comes back online, and he freezes in place, staring at Mobei Jun with some consternation. Oh fuck, he forgot all about his game plan! The seduction! The foreplay! Should he...show off? Do something to get Mobei Jun in the mood? That's a thing, right? He winces as he looks down at himself. Really not much to work with! 

He's still considering whether or not his face is thick enough to attempt a striptease when Mobei Jun, seemingly at the limit of his patience, reaches out and grabs him. He pushes Shang Qinghua down onto the bed and zaps him with a thread of spiritual energy, the chill of his fingers immediately softening to a comfortable temperature. 

Okay?! This is, wow, this is progressing very quickly? His king sure is a man of action! But this position is uh...sort of...

Mobei Jun rips the front of Shang Qinghua's robe right open! He slides his hands into the gap and yanks without a care, tearing apart the inner robe and baring Shang Qinghua's skinny chest to the world!  

Shang Qinghua immediately lets out a loud shriek of slightly-horny terror. This! Was not! In the script! 

"My king! Wait! Wait!! I have to top!! I mean! I - this servant has to push you down!" he wails, slapping at Mobei Jun's forearms. 

Mobei Jun is breathing heavily. "What?" he growls, unamused. His hand presses greedily down on Shang Qinghua's bare chest like a cinderblock. He definitely isn't wearing the expression of a man about to bottom!! 

"The one suffering from the poison has to be the one done, not the one doing!" Shang Qinghua shouts. It can't be any clearer than that! 

Mobei Jun stares at him in stupefied disbelief for a long moment. He mouths Shang Qinghua's words silently, like he's trying to find a loophole, his eyes faraway. As if in a trance, his gaze tracks slowly to the five jars of bedside lube. 

Shang Qinghua pats him sympathetically. This servant is sorry to be the bearer of bad news, my king! 

Mobei Jun's attention jumps back to him at the touch, and his gaze pins Shang Qinghua like a bug under glass. He finally sits back and lets Shang Qinghua crawl out from under him. They stare at each other for a long, awkward moment before Mobei Jun scoffs and lies down on the bed. "Get on with it then," he snaps. 

Shang Qinghua scoots closer, and Mobei Jun's entire body tenses up before he goes lax, surrendering, nobly tragic and emitting a faint air of angry vulnerability. 

Shang Qinghua starts sweating nervously. Mobei Jun didn't know! His king obviously wasn't aware that Shang Qinghua had to push him down! But…but now that he knows, isn't this starting to look suspiciously like 'cold beauty bravely enduring indignity against her will?' He really doesn't want to play the part of the villain in this particular trope! 

"My king," he says in a small voice. "Are you sure about this? If this isn't what you signed up for, then, uh. There's always those eight courtesans?"

"No!" Mobei Jun barks. He grits his teeth and turns stubbornly away from Shang Qinghua. "You do it." There's a bleak expression on his face, like he's braced for pain, or embarrassment. Shang Qinghua's heart twists. 

"My king," he says softly. Mobei Jun doesn't look at him. Helpless and unsure of how to proceed, Shang Qinghua shuffles up the bed and hesitantly rests his hand over Mobei Jun’s. His king’s fingers twitch at the contact, like he wants to cringe away but is stoically resisting. This really makes Shang Qinghua feel like the dirtiest old man in the entire world! He flings himself into a deep bow next to Mobei Jun, touching his forehead to the mattress.

"I'm sorry, my king, I'm sorry! I know it's not what you want, and you deserve so much better, but this servant doesn't want you to die! I couldn't bear it if that happened, I really couldn't!"

The rigid tension in Mobei Jun's shoulders sharpens as Shang Qinghua holds his bow, clutching beseechingly at Mobei Jun’s fingertips. Mobei Jun finally sighs, and then to Shang Qinghua's surprise, he relaxes slowly. His fingers curl around Shang Qinghua’s and he squeezes once, bracingly. 

"It's fine." 

Mobei Jun isn’t looking at Shang Qinghua, but that sense of strained submission is gone, and he just looks...well, if Shang Qinghua didn't know better, he'd say that his king seems nervous? That can't be it though.

"My king doesn't seem very...willing," he says, sitting up and wringing his hands unhappily. 

"This king is willing," Mobei Jun says. He finally meets Shang Qinghua's searching eyes, his own gaze steady. He looks slightly embarrassed, but not angry or reluctant. 

"You're sure, my king?"

Mobei Jun's eyes narrow. He doesn't like repeating himself. "This king is willing, for Shang Qinghua." 

Shang Qinghua gulps, a drip of cold sweat trailing down the back of his neck. That's a tall order to fill. 

"Ah...okay then. If you're sure, my king. Then um. Can I uh… will you allow this servant to kiss you?"

Mobei Jun blinks at him, surprised, before he nods once. 

Shang Qinghua reaches out and cradles Mobei Jun's face hesitantly, thumbs gentle against the beautiful slope of his cheekbones. Mobei Jun meets his anxious gaze, and some silent strain in him eases slowly into calm. He closes his eyes and tilts his face up into Shang Qinghua's trembling hands. 

Shang Qinghua leans forward, heart shaking, and kisses the blue demon mark on Mobei Jun's forehead. He's always wanted to do that! 

He smiles at Mobei Jun's surprised blinking, then leans in and kisses him for real, only shivering a little when their lips touch, soft, for the first time. He's bad at it, he's sure, but he - he sort of practiced, and he angles his head until their mouths slide flush against each other. It only takes three tries! 

Mobei Jun, sensing weakness, starts to kiss back all fierce and biting, but he subsides immediately at Shang Qinghua's pained yelp. Shang Qinghua pulls away to probe at his bloody lip before giving Mobei Jun a deeply persecuted look. "Please, spare some mercy for this humble servant, my king! No blood! Less teeth! Um, in fact, how about you just lie back and let this servant do it?" He pats hopefully at Mobei Jun's broad shoulders. 

Mobei Jun grumbles unhappily, but he settles and lets Shang Qinghua set the pace after that, moving slowly as Shang Qinghua familiarizes himself with the shape of his king's mouth, kissing soft, then deeper, establishing a lazy rhythm of give and take. 

It's...nice. Really, really nice. 

Shang Qinghua has to pull away sooner than he likes because he's having trouble learning how to breathe through his nose while kissing the most beautiful man in the world for the first time in his life. 

"Is that okay, my king?" he asks, panting. God, he sounds so winded, how embarrassing! He's gratified to see that Mobei Jun isn't unaffected, his chest rising and falling quickly under Shang Qinghua's hands. 

"Yes," Mobei Jun says, curt. 

Give a man a little encouragement here, my king! This servant is trying his very best! 

"Then. Then I'm going to keep going?"

"Yes." Mobei Jun tilts his face up imperiously to be kissed. Truly...so spoiled. Shang Qinghua still obliges, moving to straddle Mobei Jun so he doesn't have to sit in an awkward half-crouch by his king's side while making out with him. 

He nearly loses his nerve for a moment, freezing up in panic. Mobei Jun's waist is thick with muscle between his thighs. This is like every shameful wet dream he's ever had about his king all coming true at once. He gulps, nervous, then nearly flies out of his skin as Mobei Jun's heavy hand lands against his side. 

"Why are you stopping?"

"Continuing! I'm continuing, my king!" He ducks down to keep kissing Mobei Jun before his king gets it into his head to flip them again. 

This time, he nips lightly at Mobei Jun's lower lip, and gets a very nice sound in reward. He's gearing himself up for a repeat, when Mobei Jun takes the initiative to lick sloppily into Shang Qinghua's open mouth, practically sticking his entire tongue in! Shang Qinghua makes a startled noise that is not a squeal.  

"My king! You can't just do that without warning me!"

Mobei Jun growls. He hooks a hand around the back of Shang Qinghua's neck, yanking him down demandingly. Shang Qinghua squawks and plants his hands on Mobei Jun's chest, balking. 

"What happened to letting this servant do it?" he cries. 

"You're too slow," Mobei Jun snaps.

"What's wrong with slow? I like it slow! Slow is romantic!"

Mobei Jun's eyebrows do something complicated. He stares up at Shang Qinghua for a long moment before his oppressive hand retreats back to Shang Qinghua's waist. 

"Do what you want," he huffs, turning away petulantly. 

As you command, my king! Too slow? Okay then! Feedback received, we can speed up!

Shang Qinghua cups Mobei Jun's cool cheek, turning his face up to kiss him again. Mobei Jun allows Shang Qinghua to guide them this time, humming as Shang Qinghua bites softly at his lips, exploratory. He groans as Shang Qinghua starts kissing deeper, coaxing their mouths together, dragging his tongue along Mobei Jun's lower lip until he opens up. He lets Shang Qinghua lick into his mouth, lets him drag their tongues together once before kissing back with enough force that it leaves Shang Qinghua's lips tingling pleasantly.

How encouraging! 

The sound that Mobei Jun makes when Shang Qinghua sucks on his tongue will have a starring role in every single one of his fantasies from this moment henceforth! Shang Qinghua brings both hands up to hold Mobei Jun's face, tilting him so that their mouths slide together wetly at delicious new angles, with delicious new sounds as a very nice bonus. It sure is sloppy, but he's really getting the hang of this!

He realizes, vaguely, that he's starting to mumble in between kisses, his brain happy to spew whatever he's thinking out into the world for his king to hear. As expected, it's all compliments. Mobei Jun doesn't seem to mind though. In fact, he's starting to make low, growly sounds into Shang Qinghua's mouth as they kiss, and it's really starting to turn him on! To distract himself, he turns his attention away from his king's mouth to lands unconquered. 


Mobei Jun goes still under him as Shang Qinghua kisses at the corner of his jaw leading down to his neck. 

"Ah, my king? Should I st- "

"Continue," he says brusquely. He tilts his head further back as if in defiance, closing his eyes. Shang Qinghua shrugs and goes for it. 

Mobei Jun's sculpted jawline fits perfectly into the palm of his hand as he mouths down the graceful line of his king's throat. Experimentally, he presses a wet, dragging kiss just under Mobei Jun's jaw where he can see the fluttering heartbeat, then another, and another, following the fast-beating pulse downward. 

Mobei Jun swallows, tense. His adam's apple bobs against Shang Qinghua's mouth as he tips his head back invitingly. That's. Hmm. That's really hot! Encouraged, Shang Qinghua daringly sucks a kiss into the side of Mobei Jun's neck. Mobei Jun actually groans at that, arching under Shang Qinghua's hands. 

Nice! Nice!!

"Is that good, my king?" he asks eagerly. 

Mobei Jun grunts, annoyed. His hands tighten on Shang Qinghua's waist, dragging him closer, wordlessly demanding more. 

Not one to deny his king, Shang Qinghua obliges, pressing luxurious wet kisses into the soft column of Mobei Jun's throat and the underside of his jaw. The pale skin colors easily as Shang Qinghua moves downward, leaving a trail of flushed marks in the shape of his mouth. The thought of leaving visible bruises on Mobei Jun for the entire northern court to see has him hard so suddenly that he gasps, movements stalling as his brain overclocks on the sheer indulgence of it... 

Focus! We need to focus! There will be plenty of time to think about that later, 小 Qinghua! 

Still...all that free real estate is just too tempting. Shang Qinghua bites softly at the juncture of Mobei Jun's neck and shoulder, then increases the pressure slowly. Mobei Jun's mouth falls open and he moans, a deep, rich baritone that drips hotly down Shang Qinghua's spine. 

Really, really nice!!

Shang Qinghua does it again, picking a spot higher up, biting a little harder before dragging his tongue along against the cool skin to soothe it. This time, Mobei Jun clutches at Shang Qinghua's waist so hard that it's definitely going to bruise, squirming and making a flustered, breathless sound, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Right, he forgot, demons like it a little rough! 

Shang Qinghua applies his teeth some more. He digs his nails into the corded muscle of Mobei Jun's neck and shoulder and drags down, scoring thin red lines into the pale skin. Mobei Jun presses up into him with a hiss, like he's greedy for Shang Qinghua's touch. No need to ask twice, my king! He smooths his hands under the collar of Mobei Jun's inner robe, parting the lapels and baring Mobei Jun's chest. He strokes reverently over the glorious expanse of those perfect, sculpted pecs, squeezing gently before thumbing over Mobei Jun's nipples, making him jump with surprise. 

Mobei Jun's broad chest heaves beautifully under his hands. Shang Qinghua takes a second to appreciate the view and also to think that this is not how he expected his first experience with heaving bosoms to go.  

How many times has he dreamed about this? It's even better in real life! The flex of all that muscle under his hands, the sheer perfection of his king! Truly the ideal man! Shang Qinghua sighs dreamily, content to sit back for a second and look admiringly upon his most perfect creation. 

Mobei Jun, impatient, grabs at him with an exasperated growl. Handsy! 

"Okay, okay, my king!"

Mobei Jun's inner robe is mostly there for show now, all mussed up by Shang Qinghua's groping. He looks like the male lead on a smutty romance paperback, with it hanging half off his shoulders and exposing most of his chest. It's barely held together at his side by two ties, stretched to their limit, showing tantalizing glimpses of bare skin underneath. Might as well just get it out of the way! 

Shang Qinghua shifts down to straddle Mobei Jun's muscular thighs. He undoes the little ties holding the inner robe together and pulls the fabric apart. 

...

Ah. 

Wow.

Uhh. God, that's...hmm. That sure is a dick! That is definitely a 'use both hands and lift with your legs not your back' kind of dick! 

Mobei Jun glares at him, and Shang Qinghua realizes he's just been staring wordlessly for the past minute or so, too scared to make a sound. He swallows weakly past his dry mouth and shakes himself back to the present. Focus! He has a job to do! 

Mobei Jun seems to be...sort of into it, if how he's half hard already is any indication, but sort of into it isn't enough! Shang Qinghua worms out of his own inner robes, tossing them aside. They weren't doing much anyways, shredded as they were by Mobei Jun's rough treatment earlier. 

Mobei Jun's glare gets worse, his eyes raking furiously across Shang Qinghua's body as he starts to growl. Shang Qinghua winces. Continuing, my king, continuing! No need to be so testy! 

He leans in to kiss Mobei Jun again, and his king really is impatient, if how he practically lunges into it is any indication. He's growling low in his throat, nipping greedily at Shang Qinghua's mouth as they kiss, hooking his leg around Shang Qinghua's knee to drag him closer. So demanding! Also, really hot! 

Shang Qinghua already knew that Mobei Jun had a body that could make the gods weep in jealousy, but knowing it and seeing it spread out in perfect naked glory under him are two very different things. Everything about his king is so beautiful, Shang Qinghua can't help but want to touch. Mobei Jun is like a marble statue come alive, his body sculpted specifically for Shang Qinghua's overeager, slightly sweaty hands to caress. 

Honestly, how can anyone even hope to compare? Shang Qinghua sucks a wet, admiring kiss into the straining skin of Mobei Jun's right pec, his eyes moving covetously across the mouthwatering planes of his king's flawless body. The powerful, angular slope of Mobei Jun's hips leading down to his cock is a work of art in motion. Just getting to see the sharp dip of his body under the stretched line of his hipbone is a gift and a privilege. Somehow, Shang Qinghua gets to worship it with his hands and mouth, an unparalleled honor! 

He runs his hands up and down Mobei Jun's gorgeous chest, smoothing his palms in reverent circles over the taut muscle. Mobei Jun makes a low, dirty sound into his mouth when Shang Qinghua tweaks one of his nipples. Shang Qinghua pinches a little harder and Mobei Jun arches prettily under him, his mouth falling open on a gasp. Shang Qinghua seizes the opportunity to kiss him deeply, shamelessly rolling his thumbs along the pebbling skin, delighting in Mobei Jun's deep groan, his fluttering eyelashes.

"My king likes that?" he asks, breathless. 

Mobei Jun snarls at him without any heat behind it. He's panting hard, his chest rising and falling like bellows under Shang Qinghua's roaming hands. His pupils are dilated so wide that his eyes are a dark and reflective mirror. Shang Qinghua kisses him again and Mobei Jun opens his mouth eagerly, craning up to meet him, surging hungrily into Shang Qinghua's touch.  

He definitely likes it! 

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky has always lived to please, and this is no exception! Shang Qinghua steps up his efforts to wring more sounds out of his king, drawing exploratory trails along his abdomen, dragging his nails along the sensitive hollows of Mobei Jun's ribs, his stomach, his hips. He drinks in the expressions Mobei Jun makes in response, the furrow in that beautiful brow, the tense shape of his king's open mouth as he tries not to moan. He splays his hands flat to touch as much as he can, as if he's mapping the tactile strength of his king's body through appreciative touch alone. He follows up with his mouth, kissing down along the same paths, listening for the sharp hitch of Mobei Jun's breath or the telltale jerk when he does something that his king likes. 

It turns out that Mobei Jun really likes it when Shang Qinghua starts kissing down the line of his body towards his erection. His harsh panting takes on a low, whining undertone, and his body strains up like he's trying to press himself into Shang Qinghua's mouth. He moans raggedly, twitching up as Shang Qinghua kisses just below his navel, carefully avoiding his cock in favor of admiring his king's perfectly defined 8-pack. Shang Qinghua runs reverent fingers along the tense muscle, murmuring all sorts of compliments in between kisses. 

The ideal body, the ideal face...Mobei Jun truly is the whole package!! 

Ha, speaking of his package. 

"My king? I'm uh, I'm going to touch you first, if that's okay?" He reaches for Mobei Jun's dick but his wrist is abruptly snatched in midair. 

"You said you had to take me," Mobei Jun says tersely, his grip on Shang Qinghua's wrist tightening. 

"Yes, my king! This servant will definitely uh, do that! But I want to make you feel good first." Oh god. Mobei Jun's impressive cock twitches against his stomach. Did he say something wrong?

"My king...?" he tries again. 

Mobei Jun drops his wrist. "Fine," he says shortly, looking aside. 

Well...okay then! Permission obtained. Shang Qinghua grabs one of the five jars of bedside lube and oils up his hands. He eyes his target appraisingly and just for good measure, adds a little extra before reaching out and curling his fingers around Mobei Jun's cock. 

Mobei Jun arches up with a long groan when Shang Qinghua finally wraps both hands around his impressive and frankly very intimidating heavenly pillar. He gasps harshly, hands clenched tightly in the sheets, his breath stuttering as Shang Qinghua adjusts his grip. 

"Do you want me to stop?!" Shang Qinghua cries, anguished. 

"No!" Mobei Jun grits out. "No, not - keep - don't stop!"

Shang Qinghua obediently doesn't stop! He starts to pump steadily, gulping as Mobei Jun starts getting hard in his hands. Holy shit, it gets even bigger?! What the hell?! Is this what Cucumber-bro has to deal with on the daily? His ass hurts just looking at this monster! 

It's fine, it's fine! He can do this. He's definitely got this well in hand. Haha. Hands. 

Mobei Jun's hips twitch up in small, needy motions into Shang Qinghua's slick grip. His jaw is clenched tight, eyes squeezed shut, a deep furrow between his brows. Does he feel...good? As if in response, Mobei Jun groans, low and deep in the back of his throat, his body spasming as Shang Qinghua twists his wrist on the upstroke. 

That definitely sounded good! Shang Qinghua wants to make it even better! 

He's watched enough porn to know what's involved in a blowjob. It's. It's sort of a lot, actually. But that's fine! He has several TB of latent pornographic knowledge from a past life to draw mental pointers from! He leans down, mouth open...and all of that secondhand knowledge immediately withers away when confronted with the enormous reality of his king's dick! 

Well! One thing is certainly clear. He's definitely not going to get all of that into his mouth. But that's what his hands are for, right? Nothing to do but go for it! You can you up!! He leans down again and licks a tentative line upwards along the impressive length of his king's dick. Mobei Jun's entire body jolts under him, his eyes flying open. 

"What are you doing?!" he barks. 

"I, uh…" Shang Qinghua glances expressively at the inch of distance between his mouth and Mobei Jun's dick. "I'm, uh -"

Mobei Jun's chest heaves as he stares wildly at Shang Qinghua. 

"Um, do you not want me to -"

"It's fine!" Mobei Jun snarls. "Just do it!"

Okay then! Shang Qinghua seals his mouth over the head and sucks hard. Mobei Jun's entire body goes rigid, his head falling back as he moans, his hips snapping up past the circle of Shang Qinghua's hands, sending his dick careening directly into the back of Shang Qinghua's throat! 

Shang Qinghua, unprepared for that much enthusiasm, has to jerk away, coughing sharply, his eyes watering reflexively as he struggles for breath. Mobei Jun doesn't apologize, but his eyes are wide with shock and he rises up onto his elbows, looking concerned and sort of angry. 

"It's okay, my king!" Shang Qinghua reassures hoarsely. Just a minor setback! Getting a bit choked out by his king's enormous dick doesn't mean he isn't still horny for it! 

Mobei Jun looks unconvinced so Shang Qinghua pats him comfortingly, leaving an oily handprint against the creamy pale skin of Mobei Jun's thigh. He clears his throat and attempts a reassuring smile. "Let's try that again uh, maybe without the choking part this time?"

Mobei Jun grunts and lets himself fall back. He's still plenty hard, which is great! Shang Qinghua wraps his hand back around Mobei Jun's dick and gets started again, pulling steadily until Mobei Jun is making soft, stifled noises, rutting up and trying to follow his rhythm. This time, Shang Qinghua holds his king's bucking hips down, using all his weight as leverage before he leans forward and licks him slowly. 

Mobei Jun groans deeply, hips stuttering into Shang Qinghua's grip. Shang Qinghua does not choke, which already makes this attempt 100% more successful! He drags his tongue wetly along his king's dick, sucking lazily like he's making out with it until he gets to the tip, where he licks the whole thing back into his mouth. Mobei Jun seems to like that a lot, if the way he squirms and starts to pant is any indication. 

Very encouraging! Shang Qinghua sucks again, harder, drawing upward and holding the pressure until Mobei Jun arches under his hands with a low, choked-out sound. His body jerks up helplessly before he stills himself, fists clenching tightly. His cock jumps heavily against Shang Qinghua's tongue. 

Shang Qinghua is jubilant. Fuck yes! He's doing it! His king is into it! Okay, now he just has to keep up the momentum. His jaw is already starting to ache, but that's fine! He pets Mobei Jun absentmindedly as he works, alternately squeezing and stroking from his hips down his thighs in slow, relaxing motions. He marvels at the musculature under his palm, the way the long muscles of Mobei Jun's thighs tense and release in slow, rhythmic waves. Mobei Jun could crush Shang Qinghua's pitiful head like an egg if he exerted too much pressure! Shang Qinghua tries to feel scared by that, but he just gets a little more horny. 

When Shang Qinghua presses his tongue to the sensitive area just beneath the head, Mobei Jun cries out, his hips canting helplessly upwards. Shang Qinghua is ready this time and pulls off beforehand before getting right back into it. Improving! He's definitely improving! Don't underestimate this old man! He's going to blow right past Most Improved and go straight for MVP of dicksucking! With that in mind, he applies himself very diligently for the next several minutes until Mobei Jun starts to moan, muffling himself with the back of his hand. 

Shang Qinghua hums around him, happy despite his sore jaw. He doesn't expect Mobei Jun's entire body to spasm, jerking up into Shang Qinghua's hands. He glances up and sees Mobei Jun looking back, wide-eyed with shock. 

Oh? His king really liked that! This servant will redouble his efforts! 

He gets to the second chorus of the mandopop song he's humming when Mobei Jun lets out a deep, frustrated whine and tries to push him further down, his hand digging heavily into Shang Qinghua's shoulder, his grip tight, just short of pain. Shang Qinghua redirects Mobei Jun's hand to the top of his head. Mobei Jun can pull his hair a little if he wants to! That seems sort of sexy for both of them, right? 

He definitely moans as Mobei Jun tugs obligingly at his hair. That feels...shockingly good, actually? It sends pleasurable tingles from his scalp all the way down his spine. Mobei Jun seems to like the moaning too, if the sound he makes is any indication, a growl at a register so deep that Shang Qinghua feels it in his bones. He's not sure what Mobei Jun was going for, but It definitely just makes Shang Qinghua hornier. He was absolutely right, this is 100% sexy for both of them! 

He's just thinking that when Mobei Jun yanks him down by the hair, snapping his hips up at the same time, catching Shang Qinghua totally off guard. 

!!!

!!!!!!


@#$%@#&!!!!!!!!!

Shang Qinghua makes a muffled, extremely panicked sound! He slaps wildly at Mobei Jun's thighs! Abort, abort, abort! 

Mobei Jun lets go immediately and Shang Qinghua jolts back to choke and hack his lungs out in a very unsexy manner. "Too much," he manages between deep coughs, gagging and blinking away tears. 

Sorry, sorry, my king! That heavenly pillar of yours was truly too much for this poor servant to take on all at once! This humble servant hasn't attained that dicksucking MVP position just yet, my king! 


After what feels like a lifetime of unflattering coughing, Shang Qinghua finally manages to catch his breath. He breathes out shakily before squeezing Mobei Jun's leg in apology and leaning back in. Mobei Jun grabs him, stopping him short.

"You don't have to," he says roughly. 

"Its fine, my king!" Shang Qinghua reassures him. It's true! He doesn't even sound that hoarse! 

Mobei Jun frowns at him, unhappy. He taps Shang Qinghua's face accusingly with two fingers. Shang Qinghua touches his own cheek, confused, before wiping hastily at his tearstained face and stammering apologies. Shit! He's not crying! He's not! This is just what happens when you choke on a dick too big for your own good! 

"Do something else," Mobei Jun says, looking resigned and deeply disappointed. 

"No, no, It's really fine, my king, really!" Shang Qinghua says, panicking slightly. Don't be disappointed, my king!! This servant can give good head! He just needs some more on-the-job experience! 

"My king, I want to!" he says, beseeching. "It's fine! This servant will be careful! Please, allow me to continue, my king!" He wraps a hand around Mobei Jun's dick and gives it a hopeful little stroke, trying to look encouraging and extremely thirsty for dick.

Mobei Jun swallows so hard that Shang Qinghua can see it travel down his throat. He stares at Shang Qinghua's hand on his dick, then at Shang Qinghua's eager face. His cock gives an eager little twitch against Shang Qinghua's fingers. "Fine," he says tersely, lying back and turning his face away. 

Yes! That's the spirit! Shang Qinghua squeezes him reassuringly before leaning down and taking his king back into his mouth. He doesn't try anything fancy, setting a steady rhythm with one hand taking care of what his mouth can't reach. 

Mobei Jun is much quieter this time, which makes Shang Qinghua nervous. His king's entire body is tense, like he's forcing himself to be still. His hands are fisted white-knuckled in the sheets, which are ripped in several places already. 

Relax, my king! This servant can handle it, barring any extenuating circumstances! 

Shang Qinghua hums and swallows experimentally around Mobei Jun's cock, hoping to get him moving again. His king can move a little, as a treat! Mobei Jun exhales sharply, his breathing shaky. The muscles of his stomach flex impressively as he tries to stay still, the much-abused sheets creaking at the seams as Mobei Jun's grip tightens. His eyes remain closed, all sounds locked behind the dogged jut of his jaw.  

How stubborn! 

Shang Qinghua hums thoughtfully and goes down on him, fitting as much as he can in his mouth while holding the suction tight, his tongue pressing into the sensitive dip below the head. He pumps his hand, dragging his fingers in a tight ring along the base of his king's erection as he swallows leisurely. Unable to stay silent, Mobei Jun makes a low, guttural sound, his spine arcing slowly, one leg drawing up in a mindless motion. He grasps helplessly at Shang Qinghua's shoulder before visibly catching himself and tangling his hands in the sheets instead. So considerate! 

Shang Qinghua swallows around him again and is rewarded with another moan as finally, Mobei Jun's body rolls up in a slow, sinuous wave. His heels push aimlessly at the bed, his toes curling and uncurling. Shang Qinghua rests a hand on Mobei Jun's hip and squeezes, encouraging him to move, letting Mobei Jun thrust shallowly up into his mouth, holding him cautiously just in case he decides to get too enthusiastic about it. Mobei Jun's body strains up into him, caught torturously between control and desire. He's panting heavily, doing his best not to make any noise, but little incoherent sounds still escape him from time to time.  

It's really, really sexy! Plus, it's really good for Shang Qinghua's ego!

Still, as enjoyable as this is, and as much as he would like to continue blowing his king to high heaven, his jaw is starting to get really, really sore now. While his king definitely seems fully into it, he also doesn't seem like he's close to finishing anytime soon, and Shang Qinghua still has a job to do here! 小 Qinghua is also feeling sorely neglected! He pulls off slowly with one last reluctant lick and wonders if it's bad bedside manners to stop and massage his aching jaw and neck for a moment. 

Mobei Jun blinks at him, eyes glassy, brows knit. "Why did you stop!" he demands, panting heavily. 

"Ah, apologies, my king, but this servant still needs to, um - " he gestures downwards. 

Mobei Jun huffs angrily and falls back against the cushions. "Very well," he acquiesces, breathless. His legs twitch and he keeps moving like he can't help himself, restless. 

Shang Qinghua rests a hand on the crook of Mobei Jun's knee, pushing him wider apart. Mobei Jun clamps his legs back together instinctively before realizing what he's doing. He does that tragic surrender thing again, forcibly relaxing, his legs falling open at Shang Qinghua's light touch. Shang Qinghua winces. Please stop playing into the trope, my king! 

He reaches for one of the jars of lube, then pauses, hesitant. This is probably a bad idea, but his curiosity is really killing him. He has to ask! For - for worldbuilding purposes! 

"My king, um. Have you - have you ever…?" he makes a vague gesture. 

Mobei Jun rolls his eyes. "No," he bites out. 

"Never? Not even - "

Mobei Jun lifts his head and gives him a look so menacing that Shang Qinghua feels his blood start to crystallize, which is its own sort of answer. 

Oh. Shang Qinghua gulps. His nerves ratchet up by several large notches. 

"My king, you need to say something if you're uncomfortable, or if I'm hurting you," he pleads, wringing his hands anxiously. Can he even keep it up if he's so worried? 小 Qinghua! This is not the time to have performance anxiety!  

Mobei Jun glares at him. "Shang Qinghua," he says through gritted teeth. "Nothing you do could hurt this king."

That might be true, but Shang Qinghua is still extremely worried! It must show on his face because Mobei Jun scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Fine," he concedes. "This king will voice any concerns." 

"Okay," Shang Qinghua says, his voice wobbly. "Please allow this humble one to serve you then, my king."

He slides into the gap between Mobei Jun's spread legs, biting his lip as he considers his game plan. 

So he's maybe seen some porn before of this, specifically. For - for research purposes, back in the old days. It's not gay if it's a three-way!  

Anyways. He's also aware that stuff that looks great in porn doesn't always translate to feeling good in real life, from his own furtive experimentation towards the end of sex research week for virgins 101. 

He knows there's something called a g-spot from seeing videos with titles like 'MAGNUM POUNDING TRIPLE-G DOGGY STYLE WILD G-SPOT GUSHER!!!' Luo Binghe had also mentioned the presence of a...something...inside. Shang Qinghua was too mortified by the fact that Luo Binghe was speaking from extensive personal experience, and had maybe, slightly, mentally exited the chat in order to give his good buddy Cucumber-bro some face. But Luo Binghe definitely mentioned it!  

The problem is no one ever said exactly where the g-spot is. They were all too busy making really embarrassing sounds that had him scrambling to lower the volume of his speakers. Or gesticulating enthusiastically with two fingers while Shang Qinghua tried to prevent his immortal soul from fleeing due to secondhand embarrassment. And he hadn't found it when he was doing his own two-finger gesticulating exercises, but to be fair he'd been extremely embarrassed. Also, his hands are kinda small. But he knows it exists! And he's a man on a mission, so he's going treasure hunting! 

Mobei Jun is starting to look impatient, so Shang Qinghua grabs a cushion and wedges it under his king's hips. Mobei Jun gives him a distinctly unimpressed look, but shifts obediently to help him settle it. 

Shang Qinghua gulps as he grabs one of the jars of bedside lube, uncapping it and setting it next to him for easy access. He dips his fingers into the jar and starts to slick them up, flushing as Mobei Jun watches him the entire time. The heat of his king's continuous staring is making 小 Qinghua nervous! The pressure to perform is very stressful, okay?! 

Fingers appropriately greased, he rests his clean(er) hand on Mobei Jun's knee, encouraging him wider, scooting forward until his knees bump up against the backs of Mobei Jun's thighs. This servant needs room to work with, my king! 

Mobei Jun makes a disgruntled noise low in his throat, but spreads his legs obediently. He's still so hard, his cock lying flushed and heavy and drooling against the pale skin of his stomach. Shang Qinghua feels his entire face go bright red. He swallows thickly around a very dry mouth and redirects his attention downwards. 

"I'm uh, I'm doing it, my king!"

Mobei Jun grunts in acknowledgement, his head falling back against the cushions. He seems… tense. By which Shang Qinghua means that his king's impressive eight-pack is clenched so tightly it could be used to polish uncut diamond. 

Shang Qinghua runs a calming hand over Mobei Jun's abs, trying to prompt him to relax. "Ah, It's okay, my king," he says, trying to sound reassuring. "Just allow this servant to take care of you." He strokes slow, soothing lines from his king's stomach up to his chest until Mobei Jun relaxes under his hands with a long breath. 

He eyes Shang Qinghua with vague suspicion. "Why aren't you doing it?"

"This servant didn't want my king to feel -" Wait, he can't accuse Mobei Jun of being nervous! "- uh, I didn't want my king to feel…pressured!"

Mobei Jun's eyes narrow. "This king is willing," he says stubbornly. He angles one leg further out, as if daring Shang Qinghua to continue. 

Well! This servant is feeling pretty daring today, my king! Consider your bluff called! 

Taking the invitation, Shang Qinghua starts to stroke along the tight muscle of Mobei Jun's thigh where it meets his body, rubbing slow circles downwards, dragging his nails lightly against the sensitive skin of his king's inner thighs. Mobei Jun's breathing goes ragged and his legs twitch further apart, giving Shang Qinghua more access. He groans, low and dirty, when Shang Qinghua rests his oil-slick fingers against the soft, exposed skin between Mobei Jun's spread legs, rubbing steadily downwards, circling slowly. Mobei Jun spasms, his legs jerking up when Shang Qinghua gets to a certain spot, so he does it again, pressing in a little harder. His king moans, claws dragging across the mattress, leaving lines of ripped-up fabric in his wake.

Oh, he likes that! 

Shang Qinghua continues to trace encouraging shapes into the sensitive, shivering skin, coaxing another sound out of his king. He trails his slick fingers slowly over the entrance to Mobei Jun's body. Mobei Jun makes a harsh, startled sound, quickly cut off. He squirms sharply, shuddering as his hands close into tight fists. 

"Just get on with it," he growls. "What are you playing around for?!"

"I...I need to uh, prepare you, my king, for - "

Mobei Jun snorts dismissively. "This king can withstand it."

Shang Qinghua feels his heart twinge. "Yes, my king," he agrees weakly. "You're very strong, and I'm sure you could, but you shouldn't have to. And I...I want to make you feel good, my king, not…" He trails off, feeling a little miserable. Is this a demon sex thing?! He doesn't want it to hurt! He spent a week on mortifying sex research and arduous experimentation for the express purpose of not hurting his king! 

Mobei Jun finally sighs deeply. His leg relaxes, falling open. "Do what you want, Shang Qinghua." 

"Okay," he says nervously, petting Mobei Jun's thigh. "Relax for me then, my king. Relax, let this one take care of you."

Shang Qinghua knows from uh, personal experience that the 'stuffing RMB into a piggybank' technique does not work as well in real life as it does in porn! In fact, it only ever felt half-decent when he took his time. So he's gonna do that! 

An overdramatic anime 'Wow!!' sound effect plays in his mind as he slides one slippery finger in, and Shang Qinghua has to resist the urge to laugh hysterically. 

Mobei Jun tenses up immediately. His breath hitches sharply and he makes a - a noise. Shang Qinghua pats him hurriedly. 

"Is that okay, my king? 

"Continue," Mobei Jun snarls, not looking at him. There's a slow, obvious flush working its way across his face. Shang Qinghua stares at it in awe. He starts to rock his finger slowly back and forth, watching Mobei Jun's eyelids flutter, his mouth falling open.

"My king?" he asks again, nervous. 

Mobei Jun huffs and grabs Shang Qinghua's free hand. He wraps it around his dick and glares expressively as he starts to pump himself. 

"I - I got it, I got it! Let me, my king!"

Mobei Jun lets Shang Qinghua take over, content to pant and arch his back sexily as Shang Qinghua continues to work him open. He shifts restlessly as Shang Qinghua paces up, his throat working, legs moving aimlessly. He rolls his hips, thighs straining wider, seeking more. 

Having his king spread his legs for him like this, basically begging with his body...Shang Qinghua really thinks he might lose it if he keeps watching! He has to keep gulping back drool like he's some kind of dog, and 小 Qinghua keeps making sad, neglected twitches against his thigh. 

Endure!! His king has to finish first! Plus, both his hands are fully occupied with extremely important tasks! Speaking of which! He slips his right hand free, adds another finger, and slides them both back into Mobei Jun up to the second knuckle. 

Mobei Jun jerks and throws his head back, making a loud, strangled sound. His body tightens around Shang Qinghua's fingers in slow, sucking waves, like he's trying to pull them deeper. Shang Qinghua thinks of how good it would feel around his dick and gets a little harder. He bites his lip and sinks his fingers in as deep as they'll go, working them back and forth in slow, steady pulses.

Mobei Jun groans, long and drawn-out, probably from discomfort. His eyes are tightly shut, and he's flushed beautifully all the way down to his neck. He's gripping the sheets tightly, tearing them into long shreds. Shang Qinghua's heart twists. Is it really that bad? He doesn't want it to be bad! The least he can do is distract his king from the indignity of being fingered open by his own servant! 

"I've got you, my king," he murmurs, before bending down and licking Mobei Jun's cock back into his mouth. 

Mobei Jun lets out a short, shocked cry, the muscles of his stomach jumping as he jolts, full-body. The expression on his face is so… Shang Qinghua has to close his eyes, because he can't finish yet! He's still got a job to do! Why are you making it so hard on this servant, my king! Why do your sex faces make this one hear an angel choir?! 

He dedicates the next few minutes to making sure that his king is extremely distracted as he searches for the legendary g-spot, pressing his fingers in testingly, trying to recall what Luo Binghe was saying. Where in the world is it? There's only so many places it could be, right? He drags his slippery fingers in every direction he can think of, wishing that there was some kind of indicator that would let him know he's found it! Like a neon sign lighting up above his king's head, or maybe his king's demon mark could strobe like a disco ball, or maybe his king could just say 'Shang Qinghua you found it! Good job!' and come on the spot - or not, because Shang Qinghua still has to get his dick inside! But really, he should have listened a bit more closely to what Luo Binghe was saying because this is taking forever! Is there like, some kind of map, or hey, maybe the System can - 

Mobei Jun, fed up with his experimental probing, finally blows his top. "Shang Qinghua! Stop playing around!" he roars, slamming one hand against the mattress, which makes a deeply alarming cracking sound under his fist.  

Shang Qinghua jumps in place like a scared rabbit, pulling off of Mobei Jun's dick with a squeak. His fingers jerk instinctively, still stuck deep inside Mobei Jun as he hurriedly tries to withdraw them. Unexpectedly, Mobei Jun lets out a sharp, startled sound of pleasure. Shang Qinghua stares at him, astonished. 

Oh?

"My king? Was that…good?" he asks, his voice a little hoarse. 

Mobei Jun doesn't answer, his eyes wide and hazy, his chest heaving. Shang Qinghua blinks at him, then repeats the motion, trying to replicate what he did earlier. This time he gets to watch as Mobei Jun's eyes roll back, his entire body jerking forward as he chases the sensation. 

THE G SPOT!!!!!

He found it! He really found it! He can't help his pleased grin, even when Mobei Jun sees it and starts to growl at him. The growl is definitely not as intimidating as usual, with two of Shang Qinghua's fingers speared deep inside him.  

Treasure finally located, he rolls his fingers in slow, encouraging motions until Mobei Jun is squirming wretchedly, his entire body moving restlessly. His hips twist up in slow, greedy movements. His legs shift, the muscles of his thighs flexing and straining. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth soft and slack, and he keeps making these broken gasping sounds that he can't seem to control. 

Shang Qinghua still has his other hand on Mobei Jun's dick, and he starts to pull again, timing the slide of his palm with the coaxing motion of his fingers. Mobei Jun arches his back and moans, loud and heartfelt and deeply pornographic. He stifles himself immediately, but he can't help how his hips roll into it, or stop further sounds from escaping, even though his jaw creaks from how hard he's gritting his teeth. 

It must feel really good! He looks really into it! 

"Is it good, my king?" he asks again, delighted. 

Mobei Jun opens one slightly glazed eye to glare at him. "Shang Qinghua," he grits out. His king was probably aiming for imperious, but his voice comes out as a plaintive whine, so isn't he just begging? 

Shang Qinghua crooks his fingers, pumping a little faster, and gets to watch his king's eyes roll back, his mouth falling open, hips jerking as an outraged sound of pleasure escapes him. God, that makes him feel powerful! His dick is so hard right now. 

Patience, Shang Qinghua! Prep is important! Endure! Endure for your king! 

He pulls out slowly, oils up his hands again, and adds a third finger. 

Mobei Jun makes a gasping, inarticulate sound, tossing his head and grabbing at him as Shang Qinghua works his fingers in slowly, pumping them in and out and trying to drag them over the g-spot when he's deep enough. 

"Okay, my king?"

"Ahh - " Mobei Jun says, before biting the sound back so quickly that Shang Qinghua hears his teeth click together. His body, betraying him, clenches tight around Shang Qinghua's fingers, squeezing in little bursts. Shang Qinghua turns red, looking away from his king's flushed face. Okay! That definitely sounded okay! Felt okay too! 

He starts to stroke Mobei Jun's cock again, his grip tight, palm pressed firmly to the underside. Mobei Jun shudders and starts making a sound that, coming from anyone else, would be called a whine. Because it's his king, Shang Qinghua graciously classifies it as a sigh instead. It still makes his ears feel like they're on fire! 

"I've got you, my king," he murmurs, speeding up a little. He does not look away despite how embarrassed he is at the wet, incredibly obscene sounds his fingers make as they slide in and out of his king's body. Mobei Jun's cock is starting to drip all over his hand with each pull. The expression he's making as Shang Qinghua fingers him open is just - Shang Qinghua starts to babble, compliments falling from his mouth like jewels. He can't help it! This is how he copes! 

Mobei Jun groans, his eyelashes fluttering sluggishly, probably not listening to a single word that Shang Qinghua saying. He's grinding down on Shang Qinghua's fingers, his hips and waist moving in short, greedy motions while making this low, messy sound that is - it's not a whimper, it's not, but it definitely makes Shang Qinghua feel like he's going to combust at any moment! 

He doesn't know how long he can hold out like this, he really doesn't! His hand is starting to cramp, and watching Mobei Jun writhe and make those raw little sounds while trying to fuck down on his fingers is getting him ridiculously hot. 小 Qinghua wants in on the action too! Shang Qinghua twists his fingers experimentally as he drives them in deep, and the absolutely wrecked sound that Mobei Jun makes in response to that dissolves the last thin thread of patience holding him together. 

Prep is complete! 

He slides his fingers free, and Mobei Jun lets out a hoarse, angry sort of yell, his hand flying out to snatch Shang Qinghua's arm. Shang Qinghua freezes in place, terrified. Oh fuck! Did he mess up? Did he accidentally go too fast? 

"My king, what's wrong?! Was it too much? Uh, do you want me to slow dow- "

Mobei Jun's eyes snap open, and he snarls. He grabs Shang Qinghua by the hip, dragging him bodily on top of his thighs. "Get on with it, Shang Qinghua!" he shouts, voice cracking. 

"Okay! Okay, my king! I'm - I'm doing it!"

Sobered by his king's impatience to get it over with, Shang Qinghua drags a slick hand haphazardly over his own dick, lines himself up and starts to push in, slow, steady, his hands braced on Mobei Jun's hips. 

He's so tight. 

"Ahh, my king," he says raggedly. "Can - please, can you try and relax for me?" He fumbles to hold Mobei Jun's hand, gripping him in what he hopes is a calm and reassuring manner. Mobei Jun squeezes back, making all of Shang Qinghua's knuckles pop like bubble wrap and also crushing at least three of his fingers. Shang Qinghua stifles his reflexive howl, eyes watering. Okay, to be fair, his king is definitely under a lot of stress right now, but Shang Qinghua needs those fingers. They're not done yet! He still needs to get his king off! 

"It's okay, my king," he gasps. Mobei Jun relaxes fractionally before his entire body tightens suddenly again. Shang Qinghua has to stop moving and gasp so he doesn't nut on the spot. 

Endure! Endure!! Don't be selfish! Let your king finish first! 

On his next slow push in, Shang Qinghua leans up as much as he can to try and kiss Mobei Jun, trying to distract him. It's difficult. Mobei Jun is so tall that the angle is all wrong, his lips sort of grazing the corner of his king's mouth. Mobei Jun, catching on, turns his head and lets Shang Qinghua kiss him. His eyes are squeezed shut, a deep furrow between his brows. 

Shang Qinghua's heart softens. His dick gets a little harder. 

"I've got you, my king," he mumbles in between kisses, running his thumb soothingly along Mobei Jun's white knuckles. "I've got you, it's okay, you can relax."

Mobei Jun breathes out harshly, but he does relax in minute degrees, from his shoulders downwards in a gradual wave. He squeezes Shang Qinghua's hand again, and this time he doesn't break any fingers. 

"Ah, my king, can I move?" Shang Qinghua asks shakily. He's half-in, half-out, and the wild desire to push all the way in is excruciating, but the urge to make sure he's not accidentally hurting his king is even greater! 

Mobei Jun pants unsteadily against his mouth. There's a fine shiver running through him, and when he blinks his eyes open, his gaze is off-focus and hazy. He swallows thickly, trying to catch his breath. Shang Qinghua kisses him softly while waiting on his answer, trembling all over with anticipation. Finally, Mobei Jun's mouth purses against his, soft, then a little harder, as he starts kissing back with intent. He meets Shang Qinghua's eyes and nods once. 

Shang Qinghua brightens, kissing him back happily. "It's really okay, my king?" 

Some of the dreamy haze in Mobei Jun's eyes clears up, and there's some of his usual glower back as he gives Shang Qinghua a look. His knee comes up to knock demandingly at Shang Qinghua's back.

Shang Qinghua laughs breathlessly. "Okay, okay, my king, there's no need to scowl like that! This servant is continuing then." He squeezes Mobei Jun's hand, kisses on him a little more, and finally starts to move again. 

Mobei Jun's free hand fumbles onto his waist, clutching him tightly. He huffs sharply under his breath, nails digging painfully into Shang Qinghua's lower back when he rocks forward another inch. 

"Aah-ch! My king!" he yelps, flinching as Mobei Jun's claws draw blood. Mobei Jun grunts an apology, his hold loosening immediately. 

Shang Qinghua can feel the four lines scored down his lower back throbbing in time to his heartbeat. That bright little sting when he grazes his fingers over the scrapes is - hmm. It's sort of hot, actually? His dick twitches, interested, and he and Mobei Jun both groan at the same time. They definitely both felt that! He meets Mobei Jun's eyes, blushing. It's too late for him to look away or hide his expression, so he leans into it, pressing a quick kiss to Mobei Jun's mouth. "It's fine, my king, it's fine! This servant was just surprised! You can touch, if it helps." 

Mobei Jun's grip instantly tightens around him, his powerful hands circling Shang Qinghua's waist. Shang Qinghua gulps. Mobei Jun's hands are so big. His cool fingers press against the scrapes he left behind, and Shang Qinghua squirms a little at the reminder of how easily Mobei Jun could turn him into mincemeat if he wanted to. 

The squirming feels…really, really good. Mobei Jun's eyes flutter shut, his head falling back against the cushions as a groan punches out of him. 

"Don't stop," he growls, trying to pull Shang Qinghua closer. 

"Mm," Shang Qinghua agrees, his head hanging low as he rolls his hips in a slow, experimental circle.  

Mobei Jun arches under him and groans again, louder, deeper. His grip on Shang Qinghua tightens into something greedy, almost to the point of pain. Oh, he's definitely gonna have a nice purple ring of bruises around his waist in the shape of his king's fingers when this is over! Just the thought of it has him reeling, a lick of heat snapping down his spine, setting his thighs trembling. He has to hang his head and count to ten, thinking fixedly of tax laws, in order to calm down enough that he can start moving again. 

It feels so good, the tight, enveloping squeeze of Mobei Jun's body around him, the accommodating motions of his waist and the soft, stifled moans he makes as Shang Qinghua rocks forward, pushing into him with slow, grinding thrusts. Shang Qinghua whines, helpless, when he finally bottoms out, seating himself deep inside. It's beyond good. His brain feels like it's starting to melt. 

"My king," he pants, head spinning as he tries to catch his breath. "Holy shit, my king, you feel so good. Can you feel me? Is it okay?"

Mobei Jun growls and squirms a little under him. His hands clench and unclench repeatedly, gripping at Shang Qinghua's shoulders, then his waist, restless. His alabaster skin is flushed a very pretty color, and his mouth hangs soft and open, tensing occasionally like he's trying not to moan out loud. 

Shang Qinghua's soft heart goes out to him. His king must be so embarrassed. He unfurls Mobei Jun's clenched fist to lace their fingers together.  

"My king, am I hurting you? Is it too much?" 

Mobei Jun shakes his head stiffly. He grips hard at Shang Qinghua's hand. 

"I'm. I'm gonna move then, my king. Tell me to stop, if - "

"Don't stop."

Shang Qinghua takes several deep breaths to fortify himself. It's happening! It's really happening! He really has to top now! 小 Qinghua, it's your time to shine! Man up! He can't let his king down! 

He starts slowly, for his own endurance and Mobei Jun's comfort. Most of his weight is braced on his forearms, his body stretched over Mobei Jun's so he can lean up and kiss him, but he realizes very quickly that he can't get much leverage like this. He sits up with a frustrated little grunt, palming the backs of Mobei Jun's thighs as he scoots up to get into a better position. 

The sound that Mobei Jun makes when he thrusts in at the new angle will definitely feature prominently in Shang Qinghua's next marathon wank session! So will the way his king's eyes roll back into his head, and how his entire body tightens eagerly around Shang Qinghua like an incredibly sexy dick guillotine. Shang Qinghua has to stop and gasp for air, stars bursting behind his closed eyelids. He's not gonna last like this! He has to last! 

"Ah, my king," he says hazily, his voice shaking. "My king, please - please relax?"

Mobei Jun snarls wordlessly at him, panting in breathless little huffs. Okay, fair, maybe he's asking for a bit much. He's not the one taking it, after all. He should be considerate! Endure, Shang Qinghua! Rise above! 

Composing himself, he curls a hand around Mobei Jun's flushed cock and squeezes encouragingly. Mobei Jun jerks and makes a loud, dirty sound before trying to stifle himself into his shoulder.  

"My king? Is it too much?"

Mobei Jun drags his head back up to glare at Shang Qinghua, his eyes slitting open. "Move," he demands, his nails digging threateningly into the mattress, shredding the sheet cover into ribbons. 

Shang Qinghua gulps, some of his imminent horniness retreating in the face of self-preservation. As my king commands!! 

He starts to move obligingly, watching Mobei Jun's face go slack and hazy with pleasure. When he's got a good rhythm going, he starts to stroke Mobei Jun's cock steadily, slightly off-time with his hips. This time Mobei Jun manages to stay silent, but his entire face crumples with the strain of keeping quiet. His body gives him away completely, the movement of his hips stuttering erratically as he tenses up greedily around Shang Qinghua, his cock dripping thickly all over Shang Qinghua's fingers and onto his own stomach. 

Shamefully, Shang Qinghua's entire mouth floods wetly at the sight. He doesn't think he can fuck his king, jerk him off, and suck him off at the same time - he's not flexible enough to do that! But he can lean down and lick one nipple into his mouth while doing two of the above! 

Mobei Jun moans for him, long and messy as Shang Qinghua sucks a little harder, using his teeth, dragging his tongue along the raised bud of his king's nipple. Mobei Jun's cock twitches greedily in Shang Qinghua's hand as he writhes up, trying to get more friction. 

"Is it good, my king?" he asks, his voice choppy and labored as he tries to keep a good pace. Ah, his knees are really killing him here!   

"Mmmn," Mobei Jun agrees, sighing and rolling his hips. His head tilts back, revealing the long, graceful line of his throat, so pale against the dark silken stream of his hair. He keeps making these obscene little sounds of satisfaction, deep in his throat. God, he looks so good. 

He feels good too, incredibly, ridiculously, mind-blowingly good. It feels like Mobei Jun's body is sucking him in, so tight and slick around him. Shang Qinghua doesn't realize he's moaning himself until he tries to talk at the same time and it comes out all garbled and inarticulate. He gives up on speech and puts his mouth to better use on Mobei Jun's other nipple, which was starting to look kind of sad and lonely. 

"More," Mobei Jun urges, his voice cracking. His hand digs against the small of Shang Qinghua's back, trying to press him closer. He rocks up against Shang Qinghua's dick, hips flexing, trying to get him to go faster. "More, more, harder -"

This one lives to serve!  

Shang Qinghua rises up onto his knees for a better angle, braces his hands against the crooks of his king's knees to spread him a little wider, pulls out most of the way, and then he really starts pounding into Mobei Jun for all he's worth! 

He can't keep this pace up for long, but he must be doing something right because Mobei Jun cries out, a throaty, ecstatic sound that wrenches loudly out of him as his entire body arcs, taut with pleasure. His mouth falls open, shaping hissed, soundless words that don't escape him. His ragged, panting gasps end on a low whimpering note. His pale face is flushed with exertion, or pleasure, or both.

He looks so beautiful. Shang Qinghua wants to kiss him, so he does, straining over Mobei Jun's body to reach his mouth. Mobei Jun leans up to meet him, groaning as he kisses back, eager but sloppy, too much of his attention fixed on how Shang Qinghua is moving around him and inside him. 

Shang Qinghua shifts further forward on his knees, trying to get some more leverage. He's really starting to feel the burn now! He scoots up further, pulling Mobei Jun down by the hips to meet him as he slams in at a better angle. Mobei Jun's mouth drops open and he clutches desperately at Shang Qinghua, his legs falling open, arching up off the bed as Shang Qinghua fucks steadily into him.

"Ah - " he stammers, once, then again and again, shocked, like he can't help himself. He can't seem to stop, even as Shang Qinghua starts to kiss him again, snaking a hand between them to palm the heavy, slick weight of Mobei Jun's erection. 

The noise Mobei Jun makes is almost a scream as Shang Qinghua strokes him, fast, merciless. His arms clamp tight around Shang Qinghua, holding him with something approaching desperation as Shang Qinghua continues to fuck into him, relentless. Every thrust pushes a startled, involuntary sound out of him.

Shang Qinghua spares one brain cell to pat himself on the back. Holy shit! Literally never in his life did he expect to be here, balls deep in his king, with Mobei Jun, the man, the dream, the legend, spread wide and willing under him, making soft, wrecked ah-ah-ah! sounds like a hentai heroine. He lunges forward to kiss him, swallowing those little sounds down all for himself as he grinds in deep. 

In between kisses, Shang Qinghua's mouth starts running off without him again, babbling about how good and incredible Mobei Jun feels like there's no tomorrow. He wishes he could stop, but his brain-to-mouth filter has been completely subsumed by the exquisite privilege of getting to fuck his king!

Mobei Jun starts to moan openly, like he's really into what Shang Qinghua is saying, rocking up greedily to meet him despite the fast pace. Shang Qinghua's entire body starts to tense up dangerously, tremors rolling down his spine, tightening his thighs, anticipatory tension coiling low between his hips. He groans, his rhythm stalling as he tries to hold himself back. He's really at his limit here! 

Mobei Jun actually whines as he slows down, surging up like he's trying to flip them. No!!! That will invalidate this whole thing and then they'll have to do it again! Shang Qinghua's heart isn't strong enough for that! More importantly, his dick isn't strong enough for that! 

Driven by panic, he slams Mobei Jun back down on the bed by the shoulders and starts moving again, hating himself immensely in retrospect for writing in that stupid demon stamina. Couldn't he have made it a protagonist-only trait?! He just wants to get his king off in a reasonable amount of time! 

Mobei Jun somehow allows himself to be manhandled, keening as his head thuds back against the cushions. His legs lock tight around Shang Qinghua's waist, pulling him in deeper, refusing to let him move away. He grabs his neglected cock and starts to pump himself urgently, leaving Shang Qinghua's hands free to brace himself as he fucks his king for all he's worth!

"More," Mobei Jun demands hoarsely, his hips rocking desperately against Shang Qinghua. 

More?! What more?! This servant is at his absolute limit! Please feel free to come anytime, my king! This servant doesn't know how much longer he can hold out! 

Shang Qinghua moans, his legs threatening to give out. He feels molten, incandescent, pleasure coiling tight all down his spine, curling greedy fingers around his straining thighs - no, that's, that's Mobei Jun, actually, trying to drag him closer - he moans again, hands tightening into fists as his legs start to shake. 

"My king," he says helplessly, hips stuttering as he tries desperately to hold off his orgasm. "I - I'm, I can't - I wanted you to finish first, but I'm - this servant is too weak, I'm only human and you're so beautiful and you feel so good, I wish I could do this with you forever, I love being -"

Mobei Jun arches suddenly, snapping taut under him and finishing with a wild, startled cry, trying to muffle the sound with his forearm, his entire body shaking as he falls apart under Shang Qinghua. 

Finally!! Goal!! Touchdown!! Winner winner winner!!!

Shang Qinghua barely has the presence of mind to cheer before his own orgasm slams through him, and he buries his face against Mobei Jun's neck as he finishes right after. 

 


 

Shang Qinghua comes back to himself plastered bonelessly against Mobei Jun's chest and has to peel himself off reluctantly, grimacing at the mess as he sits up to survey the results. 

Mobei Jun looks so stunned, his chest still heaving, eyes hazy and blank, mouth fallen open. Come is splattered messily across his chest and abdomen in artful arcs, smeared where Shang Qinghua fell on top of him earlier. His legs are still splayed wide open like he doesn't have the strength to close them, his thighs trembling with little aftershocks under Shang Qinghua's hands.

Shang Qinghua stares at him in open awe. This is the mighty demon king of the north, Mobei Jun! Totally ravished, laid low, pushed down and thoroughly debauched!

Mobei Jun takes a deep, shuddering breath under him and closes his eyes. Tears track down the sides of his face, crystalline in the low light. Shang Qinghua feels his euphoria turn to ashes in his mouth.

Oh. 

Oh...shit. His king's dignity is in complete tatters because of him. He grabs one of his inner robes and starts hurriedly wiping the mess off his king's chest and stomach. Mobei Jun blinks sluggishly at him before sighing deeply, turning his face away. Almost like he's...shy? Or - or ashamed. 

A terrible thought strikes Shang Qinghua like a thunderbolt. What if his king had just wanted it to be over with as quickly as possible? Abruptly, he recalls every time Mobei Jun had snapped at him. 'Continue,' he'd said. 'Hurry up. Get on with it…' 

Had Shang Qinghua dragged it out selfishly just because it felt so good for him, while his king suffered through the indignity because he had no other choice for a dual cultivation partner? And here's Shang Qinghua gloating over what he's done like the absolute worst sort of scum! 

He takes in the unmistakable tear tracks on Mobei Jun's face with fresh new horror. He did this. This - this isn't something he should be happy about, or proud of. He should feel ashamed, and he does, all at once. The shame his king must have had to endure throughout the whole thing hits him like a slap in the face and he goes ashen. 

He pulls out, stammers something - an apology, or a plea for forgiveness, he doesn't know, before grabbing his robes and fleeing. 

 

---

 

Mobei Jun catches up to Shang Qinghua in his small bedroom. He's not even dressed yet, only his heavy furred cloak flung hastily over his shoulders. 

"Shang Qinghua! What are you doing?!" he demands, too shaken for formality. "Where do you think you're going?!"

Shang Qinghua does not stop what he's doing, which is frantically packing things into a qiankun pouch. "Ah, my king, I - I thought maybe I could take a um, a small trip to An Ding peak! Not forever, just for a few months, or years, or centuries -"

"Running away?!" Mobei Jun concludes correctly, eyes narrowing dangerously as he snatches at the pouch. "You still dare, after all this time -"

"What wouldn't I dare for you, my king?!" Shang Qinghua shouts, slapping the ground. "What wouldn't I do for you -" he catches himself and bites his lip, flushing, practically in tears. 

Mobei Jun studies him in the ringing silence, pupils slitting. "Explain yourself," he finally says, quiet. 

Shang Qinghua breathes out shakily, almost a sob. He sits up straight, then bows deeply, formally, his forehead touching the ground as he speaks. 

"Apologizing to my esteemed lord and king, Mobei Jun. This servant greatly overstepped his boundaries today. This miserable servant dared to - to debase my king in such a vulgar and disrespectful manner, when he should have simply focused on curing the poison as quickly as possible. This servant will accept any punishment my king deems fitting, but this servant would recommend a period of exile, if my king finds it appropriate."

Mobei Jun pulls him sharply out of his bow, frowning deeply. "No. What punishment. Why would this king send you away?"

"This humble servant doesn't wish to be an unwelcome reminder of what my king had to um, endure just now. So, perhaps my king would generously grant this servant some time away, so that his lordship doesn't need to be reminded every day of - of past events, upon seeing this one's unworthy face."

"No. And aren't you still banned from Cang Qiong Sect?"

"I'm not banned! And I'm - I…" Shang Qinghua swallows past the painful lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, my king. I'm sorry." His hands fidget in his lap. "I don't want my king to feel ashamed when he sees me."

Mobei Jun snorts, crouching down to look him in the eye. "Do not presume to tell this king how he should feel or how he should act," he says darkly. 

Shang Qinghua looks away and gulps, feeling very hot around the eyes. Mobei Jun is still obviously naked, his cloak the only thing preserving his modesty. There are obvious red marks littering his neck, and half-dried tear tracks still trail down the sides of his face. He ran here, right after - after, to stop Shang Qinghua from leaving. He didn't even use a portal. 

Why isn't he angry? Shouldn't he be furious at the way Shang Qinghua treated him? 

Mobei Jun's hand closes around Shang Qinghua's wrist, distracting him. "There will be no punishment, because there was no disrespect." 

Shang Qinghua looks at him miserably. "But my king - !"

"No," Mobei Jun says again, his eyes narrowing. His hand tightens around Shang Qinghua's wrist, enough that the pressure makes his arm tingle. "Do not think to leave this king so easily, Shang Qinghua." 

"My king -" Shang Qinghua tries again, feeling increasingly wretched. 

"Stay!" Mobei Jun says, and this time his voice rings with the sharp edge of a command. Shang Qinghua winces and starts to fold himself into a bow of acknowledgement. 

Mobei Jun curses under his breath and stops him with a hand to his shoulder. He sighs, and his tight grip relaxes until he's holding Shang Qinghua's wrist loosely in the cool circle of his fingers. 

"Stay," he says again, softer. "Do you understand, Shang Qinghua?" He punctuates his words with a little shake.

Shang Qinghua looks down, throat tight, his vision blurring. His king's dignity lies in his hands, in ruins, but somehow, Mobei Jun doesn't care. He finally bows his head, acquiescing.

"This ungrateful servant understands and obeys, my king." 

 

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu wants to know how it went. 

This means he sends an incredibly insulting letter implying that Shang Qinghua was probably incapable of satisfying his king in any meaningful manner while simultaneously managing to convey that he hopes it went well. As tsun as ever, Shen-dada! 

Shang Qinghua has been trying not to think about it too much! This means that it plagues his every waking thought and stalks through his dreams at night, shrieking and rattling chains made of his own guilty regrets, haunting him without mercy like a particularly determined fierce corpse! 

It really makes him want to scream! Even if Mobei Jun hadn't punished him, he wants to punish himself! What kind of disrespectful bastard is he ah?! He just, pulled out and ran away! Leaving his king lying there all stunned and disheveled, and then Mobei Jun had to get up and chase after him too?! No manners at all! Just wham, bam, thank you, my king! 

He has good bedside manners! He definitely would have cuddled! He likes cuddling, and he would have made a great big spoon! And his king deserved to be held, after, and to be told how gorgeous he is, and how sexy he looked, and how hot the sounds he made were, and - and he should really stop thinking about things like this, because it'll never happen again! 

He grabs double handfuls of his hair, resisting the urge to let out a long, despairing scream. What can he do?! It's not like he can ask for a redo! 


He deals with his all-consuming shame by not meeting Mobei Jun's eyes and avoiding him as much as possible in the week or so following The Cure. He slinks out of rooms when he knows his king is about to make an entrance. He stands half-hidden in shadowy corners or behind furniture so Mobei Jun's drifting eyes don't have to land on him. He takes all his paperwork back to his room or to the library instead of finishing it side by side with his king in Mobei Jun's study as they usually do. 

It's... surprisingly lonely. 

Mobei Jun doesn't press him. He doesn't get angry or sweep into Shang Qinghua's rooms, bad-tempered and demanding to know why he's acting so weird. He doesn't do...anything different from normal, actually, although it does not escape Shang Qinghua's notice that his king chooses to wear high-collared robes for a few days. Sometimes Shang Qinghua catches Mobei Jun staring at him, but he never confronts Shang Qinghua to demand answers for his new increasingly shifty behavior. Shang Qinghua doesn't know if he should feel relieved or depressed by that. 

Both, he decides, sighing as he stands up and stretches wearily after signing off on the last stack of requisition requests for the day. The four thin scrapes on his lower back pull with the movement, a guilty memento he couldn't make himself heal away. Both is definitely the right answer. 

 


 

At the next meeting of the northern court, Mobei Jun announces that there was an attempt to poison him and that he's now cured, to an immediate and long-lasting uproar. He refuses to give any details, bringing the meeting back to order with a clenched fist, and if Shang Qinghua is extra twitchy and can't meet anyone's eyes afterwards, it's just because of all the noise. 

He only realizes afterwards that he missed a prime opportunity to see reactions from all the major suspects to the crime! The representatives of the other four noble demon families of the north were all there, along with Linguang Jun and several other shady court members and he just, looked away because he was embarrassed?! Fuck! What kind of spy is he?!

Damn it, Shang Qinghua! It's time to stop feeling guilty and get to work! Although his king is safe now, the culprit is still out there, and that cannot be allowed to stand! Mobei Jun already has his intelligence team looking into it, but Shang Qinghua is not okay with the risk that something like this could happen again, and knowing what he does about the average IQ of NPCs in this world, he doesn't particularly trust anyone to protect Mobei Jun better than he can. 

He goes on the offensive. The matchmaking binders he made now serve as hit lists for him to isolate which demon could have done the deed based on their resources, proximity, motivation, alliances, familial ties, and a whole web of other crisscrossing factors. A Remnant of Grace isn't something easily or cheaply obtained, and there aren't many who know how to manufacture it. If he can find the poison, he can find the perpetrator! 

An imp brings him a late breakfast as he labors over his binders. Shang Qinghua shovels the food into his mouth, downs his tea like a shot and turns back to his work without batting an eye. An hour later, he can no longer ignore the weird tingling at his extremities. 

What the hell was in that tea! Is this some weird version of coffee? Tell a man before you add a stimulant to his drink! 

He gets up, stretches, and shakes himself vigorously. The tingling persists. Shaking his head and muttering uncharitably under his breath, he grabs his binders and heads for the library, deciding to swing by the kitchen at the last minute to interrogate ask that imp what horrible supplement they had added. The cooks at the northern palace have become a lot better about making food fit for human consumption, but that doesn't mean Shang Qinghua trusts them completely, especially if they're adding weird shit to his drinks!

He gets more than he bargained for when he stops in a little alcove on the way to rub at his tingling fingers and overhears hushed voices coming through a carved window from the hallway beyond. He hears Mobei Jun's name and his ears perk up as he plasters himself against the wall to listen in. Once a spy, always a spy! 

The grating, slightly wheezy voice of Han Chuanzheng, the head representative from the Hanmei clan, is instantly recognizable. He's talking to another demon from his clan. 

"I don't believe that human lapdog of his had nothing to do with it," Han Chuanzheng snarls. "So sudden a cure? This reeks of interference. Trust me, that human had a hand in it somehow."

Chance! Lucky~! He caught them monologuing! They're even talking about him! Shang Qinghua wishes he had a notebook. He should look into putting one in his qiankun sleeves. 

"Is it truly possible that the human managed to find an alternate cure? There's never been any record of another cure..." 

"What else could it have been? There was no marriage announcement in court today. None of the eligible candidates from the three other clans have been contacted or invited to the northern palace. Not so much as a single interview! And that loose-lipped guardsman was going on and on about the scene that unfolded from whoever hired those courtesans to our lord's bedchambers. I doubt anyone would be so reckless as to try that again." 

"Do you think perhaps our lord reconsidered?" 

Han Chuanzheng scoffs. "That cold fish? The high and mighty Mobei Jun would rather die than allow a stranger to so much as breathe upon him. I've seen him kill for less. How that despicable human managed to worm into his good graces..." Han Chuanzheng spits disdainfully. "It doesn't matter. I've made sure that rat of a cultivator won't get in the way next time."

Next time?  Shang Qinghua's blood chills. He holds his breath and masks his presence as well as he can. 

"What do you mean?" The other advisor asks. 

Han Chuanzheng laughs coldly. "That weedy little human will have his own troubles to deal with soon enough. If everything has gone according to plan, then A Remnant of Grace will have found him by now. Perhaps he'll do us all a favor and die from it quickly." 

Shang Qinghua's blood pressure skyrockets with equal parts fury and fear. The uncomfortable tingling in his fingers takes on a new and terrible significance. 

The other demon shushes him hastily. Han Chuanzheng snorts. "What are you so afraid of? We would be doing our lord a favor, eliminating that rat at his side. Once that cultivator is gone and we have his ear again, we can do as we wish."

"And if our lord doesn't feel like listening to your recommendations?"

Han Chuanzheng's voice deepens with grim satisfaction. "Then we'll strike again at that time and put him down for good."

 

Shang Qinghua stays flattened against the wall until their voices move away before daring to breathe deeply again. His heart pounds wildly in his chest as he processes the implications of what he just heard.  

First, that little encounter very neatly answers the question of who the perpetrator was. Han Chuanzheng was not in the very small circle of those who knew about his king's condition, much less someone who would know the exact name of the very rare poison used. He's in a position to benefit from a marriage alliance with the Mobei clan, and has put forth feelers already, trying to match Mobei Jun up with one of the Hanmei heiresses, a pretty, spoiled demon with zero martial ability and an overweening penchant for cruelty. Han Chuanzheng is also a financial advisor for the Hanmei clan, giving him access to funds that could be diverted for personal endeavors, such as the purchase of a very rare and expensive poison. As a representative of one of the noble familes of the north living at the northern palace, he'd have ample opportunity to come into contact with Mobei Jun, and could have easily found some way to slip A Remnant of Grace into Mobei Jun's food or drink. 

Motive! Means! Opportunity! They all check out! Plus, Han Chuangzheng basically confessed to it in an open hallway at the top of his lungs, with two witnesses present. As expected of the typical 40 IQ PIDW villain! 

Second, it seems like maybe he's been poisoned with A Remnant of Grace. He's uh, he's gonna put that one in a box to deal with later!   

Third, Han Chuanzheng is planning to poison Mobei Jun again if he doesn't get his way. Absolutely fucking not! This fucker is going down! 

Kitchen imp forgotten for now, Shang Qinghua slips out of the alcove and makes his way to Mobei Jun's study at a dead run to report his findings. 

 

---

 

He bursts into Mobei Jun's room without any preamble, forgetting to knock. "My king!" he cries, trying to catch his breath. He really needs to work on his cardio!

Mobei Jun takes one look at him and stands up at once, his face thunderous. His hands curl into fists, ice already crackling threateningly over his knuckles. 

"What happened. Speak quickly." 

"My king, I've found out the identity of the one who poisoned you!"

The aura of imminent murder seeps out of Mobei Jun's expression and he sits back down, studying Shang Qinghua intently, the frost dissipating slowly from his hands. 

"Who?"

Shang Qinghua folds himself into a sitting position and spills the beans, conveniently leaving out the part where he's (probably) been poisoned himself. He emphasizes Han Chuanzheng's previous clumsy attempts to leverage Mobei Jun into a marriage with the Hanmei clan's fifth daughter, who happens to be Han Chuanzheng's distant niece. It was a terrible match in every sense, offering so little to the Mobei clan that Shang Qinghua hadn't even made her a binder despite her noble background! Han Chuanzheng's actions are obviously a power grab, and not a subtle or well-executed one, at that! 

It's only when Mobei Jun studies him in considering silence that Shang Qinghua realizes that A) this is the first real conversation they've had since The Cure happened, and B) he has no solid evidence to present except for the conversation he overheard and his own working knowledge of the convoluted politics of the northern court. He blanches. What kind of terrible spy work is this?!

"My king, I - I'll find proof -"

"No need," Mobei Jun says shortly. "Rescind all of our economic agreements with the Hanmei clan in light of this assassination attempt." His pupils narrow to pleased slits as he drums his dark nails slowly against the table. "This king will deal with Han Chuanzheng and his accomplice personally."

Shang Qinghua shivers at the murderous light in Mobei Jun's eyes but he bows deep in acknowledgement before scurrying away to find the minister of trade and start drafting the document to officially cut ties with the Hanmei clan. 

---


When Mobei Jun takes his bloody vengeance before the northern court that evening, Shang Qinghua stands by with the finalized documents to destroy the Hanmei clan's economic standing, pending his king's official seal of approval. He watches very respectfully and with a definitely normal level of horniness as Mobei Jun shreds the life out of his screaming former advisors. He very deferentially offers the documents to Mobei Jun as his king stalks back to the throne, shaking the blood off his elegant hands with a self-satisfied air as the assorted demon politicians cheer raucously. Mobei Jun produces his jade seal, casually inks it with the blood of his dead advisors, and stamps the paper. 

"Let this be a lesson to all those seeking to undermine this Mobei Jun," he snarls, looking about the room. "Your crimes are known, and this king shows no mercy to traitors."  

Shang Qinghua is definitely not sweaty, not even a little! 

Mobei Jun then makes everyone stay, and addresses a few small administrative issues he didn't get to cover this morning. The rest of the session proceeds as normal, which is to say, relatively boring compared to the preceding dual murders. Shang Qinghua listens attentively, takes notes, and only looks at Mobei Jun's mouth a normal number of times per minute. He leaves immediately afterwards to finish up his paperwork, and by the end of the day when he falls facefirst into bed, he can almost pretend that he's forgotten about the exciting events of this morning. Has it really only been one day? Taking care of his king is really tiring sometimes!

He tries very diligently to ignore the tingling in his hands. What's with this shitty luck, huh? The same fucking poison! Doesn't lightning not strike twice in the same place or something like that? 

He raises a hand and wiggles his fingers experimentally before letting it drop with a sigh. He'll…figure it out. Somehow. That or die a slow, creeping death as his spiritual energy starts to short out and his golden core fails him. Haha! He's got a year to fix this! It'll be fine! 

 

4 weeks later...

Shang Qinghua wakes up very slowly, feeling like he's been run over by an 18-wheeler. He blinks muzzily up at the familiar canopy. His bed? How did he get here? Wasn't he working on something? What was he doing...? A sudden chill wracks him and he shivers weakly, trying to pull the blankets further up. Why is it so cold?  He turns his head to the side, feeling as weak as a kitten, and nearly jumps out of his skin. 

Mobei Jun is sitting at his bedside, with a face that promises murder. "Shang Qinghua," he snaps, jolting upright the moment Shang Qinghua's unsteady eyes find him. 

"My king?" he asks blearily. His voice comes out a croak. His throat feels so dry, and he's so cold that his teeth chatter with it. "What happened?"

Mobei Jun taps the back of his hand, sending Shang Qinghua a small pulse of his spiritual energy to chase away the chill. He does this while seething with barely-contained temper. Shang Qinghua can feel the angry frost emanating from him even through the insulating effect of the qi.

My king, please chill out a little! This servant just woke up, can you give him a break?

"My king?" he tries again, sounding a bit more like himself. 

Mobei Jun glares at him and continues to bristle silently. 

...

My king, please use your words! This servant has no idea why you're so mad! Giving this servant such a nasty look is not going to magically impart the answers directly into his overworked brain! Your words, my king! Your words! You have that beautiful mouth for a reason! 

Perhaps picking up on Shang Qinghua's groggy exasperation, Mobei Jun finally starts speaking. "You collapsed while walking back to your chambers from the library. You didn't wake even when this king called you. When the healer examined you, she found -" He gets up abruptly and starts pacing, throwing furious glares at Shang Qinghua. "She found that you had been poisoned with A Remnant of Grace." 

Ah.

Shit. 

Shang Qinghua winces. Mobei Jun's eyes light up with fury as he whirls around, taking in Shang Qinghua's lack of surprise. "You knew?! How could you let it progress like this?!" 

Shang Qinghua thought he had more time. His king could have endured the debilitating effects of A Remnant of Grace for a whole year with how strong he is. In contrast, here's Shang Qinghua, laid out like a corpse after one month! He should've probably considered that a poison meant for demons would be a lot stronger and faster acting on a less-than-standard human.

"My king, I -" he shrugs helplessly. He really doesn't have an excuse here. 

"Why didn't you seek the cure?!"

Shang Qinghua winces again. Going directly for the weak points, huh, my king? 

"Ah...well. You see, this servant didn't exactly...have anyone to ask," he says, subdued.  

"No one? What about your Cang Qiong sect? There are eleven other peak lords who -"

Shang Qinghua laughs dully. "My respected martial siblings would never lower themselves to do something like that for me."

Sure, he's a peak lord, but he's also a known traitor and demon affiliate. He has no doubt that if he asked for it, someone would be sent to...assist him. Qian Cao does have that infamous division, after all. But it would never be another peak lord who came, and the shame of having to ask in the first place... 

He didn't even tell Shen Qingqiu. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mobei Jun demands. His eyes burn bright like a ghost flame. 

Shang Qinghua wants to laugh. Or cry. How many times had he thought about it these past few weeks? Confessing everything to Mobei Jun...his king very nobly offering to reenact The Cure Part 2...sweeping Shang Qinghua off his feet directly into the bedroom...

As if!! His king wouldn't even entertain the thought. Shang Qinghua tries for a placating smile, but isn't sure how successful it is. 

"This servant would rather perish than impose such an ignoble request upon my king."

Mobei Jun snarls and turns away from him, slamming a hand against the wall. It should be terrifying, but Shang Qinghua knows the sound of his king's open frustration. His heart drops into his stomach. Mobei Jun is disappointed with him. 

He remains silent as Mobei Jun seethes some more, pacing like a trapped tiger and shooting him angry, expectant looks like he's waiting for Shang Qinghua to say something. My king, if you're going to be angry with me, then this servant is keeping his mouth shut! Why are you so worked up anyways? You're not the one poisoned this time! 

Mobei Jun finally stomps over to stand next to him, glowering. Shang Qinghua hunkers down and tries to make himself look smaller under the blankets. Mobei Jun grits his teeth until his jaw creaks, his hands tightening into fists. He's very obviously gathering steam for some kind of dramatic outburst. 

Spit it out, my king! If you're going to shout and scream, then just get it over with! 

Mobei Jun finally exhales sharply, meeting his eyes so fiercely that it feels like a physical blow. Shang Qinghua gulps and braces himself.

"Shang Qinghua. Do you want this king to assist you with the cure."  

...

......

........Huh?!!! 

Every single rational thought flies out of Shang Qinghua's head. He stares at his king, unseeing, uncomprehending, his mouth hanging open. Surely he misheard that? 

Mobei Jun is glaring back at him with such intensity that it's sort of difficult to meet his eyes. 

He doesn't retract the offer. 

Shang Qinghua starts sweating. "Ah...um, if this is about this servant's uh, prior assistance, then m-my king doesn't owe this lowly one anyth - "

Mobei Jun cuts him off, impatient. "I am asking you. Is it what you want?" His eyes rake over Shang Qinghua's shivering form. 

Shang Qinghua feels like his brain is swimming through molasses, his thoughts slow and syrupy with disbelief. Is this really happening? Has he somehow fallen asleep mid-conversation and projected directly into an incredibly self-indulgent dream? His king can't really be asking to help him with the cure, right? Mobei Jun, the king of the north, regent of the demon realms, asking to help him, Shang Qinghua, with a little case of dual cultivation? Ha! This can't be real! He must be dreaming! Hey, isn't this entire situation basically a standard porno intro? All they need is some mood music, some nice lighting, and maybe his king could be a little less clothed, and he definitely could have asked in a more sexy manner with his voice all deep, and - 

"Shang Qinghua!" Mobei Jun's annoyed shout brings him crashing back to the present, the very real present, where his king is still waiting on his answer to an impossible question! 

"I - I - !"

"Do you want it or not?! Say it!"

"Yes! I do! Want that!" Shang Qinghua blurts, every cell in his body trained to obey Mobei Jun's command. 

Mobei Jun exhales once, sharply. He looks…relieved? Shang Qinghua doesn't get the chance to pursue that line of thought any further because then his king starts - starts stripping. 

"My king?!" he squeaks, clutching at a nearby cushion. 

Mobei Jun climbs onto the bed, straddling Shang Qinghua's legs and looming over him as he undoes his dark outer robe, dropping it on the floor. The whisper of discarded fabric is so loud in the sudden silence. He's - he's so big

Shang Qinghua is suddenly, viscerally aware of how weak he is. His arms feel like overcooked spaghetti. He can barely move himself, much less Mobei Jun, if his king isn't careful with him. He starts shaking. 

He doesn't know what kind of expression is on his face, but Mobei Jun stops immediately. He's down to the last robe before his inner layers. Shang Qinghua's heart is beating so fast that it feels like it's going to burst as Mobei Jun looks down at him. 

"Shang Qinghua. Is this what you want?" he asks again. 

Shang Qinghua remains silent, trembling. This is really happening isn't it? This is karmic justice finally reaching around to bite him on the ass for every awful thing he's done to his characters. Caught in one of his own shitty fuck or die tropes! 

It's not that he doesn't want it! He didn't lie about that. In fact, he… really likes Mobei Jun! His king is so handsome! The most handsome person ever! How many times has he thought about his king's beautiful face? Had guilty thoughts about running his fingers through that long, dark hair? Being picked up by those powerful arms, to be held against that perfect chest? How many times has he replayed that night when his king had let him - 

The answer is many!! Embarrassingly many! Too many to count! And maybe, just maybe, he'd imagined, once or twice, how his king would help him with this particular problem. He's maybe imagined it in very vivid detail! Multiple positions! 

But now that it's actually happening, he just, he doesn't feel very ready for this, and it's all happening very fast, and he's not in full control of his body, and maybe he's a little scared. Of dying, and of having to do this in order not to die when he doesn't feel ready. At some point, he realizes he's started crying, tears leaking pathetically down the sides of his face to drip all over his pillow. He's crying, and shaking, and having a total fucking meltdown because the most beautiful man in the world offered to have sex with him. 

Mobei Jun looks startled and intensely worried. Shang Qinghua can't help the pathetic laugh that bubbles up in his chest. Neither of them have the emotional capacity to deal with something like this! 

Mobei Jun's expression shutters immediately at the laugh. He clambers off of Shang Qinghua and picks up his robes, pulling them back on violently as he stalks away from the bed. "If you don't want it, then say it," he snaps, his voice low and a little hurt. "But this king would never force you." He turns away sharply, redoing his robes in curt, angry motions. Shang Qinghua is still struggling to find the right words to say when Mobei Jun pauses by the door, his head hung low, defeated.

"Shang Qinghua. Please do not make this king stand by and watch you perish. I will await your decision." He closes his eyes, several expressions flashing across his face too quickly to catch, and turns to leave. 

In all the time that Shang Qinghua has known his king, he's never heard Mobei Jun sound like this. Helpless, anguished, his voice dull with sorrow and resignation. It cuts through him right to his shaking heart.

"My king, wait! Come back! Please!" 

Mobei Jun turns immediately, like he was waiting, hoping for it. He strides back at a pace more like a run than a walk before catching himself. When he sits back down next to the bed, he deliberately places himself far enough that he's not looming over Shang Qinghua, both fists clenched tightly on top of his knees. 

Shang Qinghua sniffles and tries to gather his thoughts. He's still trembling a little as the adrenaline wears off, leaving him drained and unsteady. He thinks he sees Mobei Jun's hands twitch in his blurry vision.

"I, I'm sorry I'm freaking out. It's just. My king, I've never - I've, I haven't ever, except that one time, with you, and this is kind of happening very fast for me and I'm - " He knows exactly how big his king is and how long it takes him to finish, and he's very scared that this will hurt, badly. He just can't manage to...say it out loud. 

"I'm…" The word stalls in his throat and doesn't seem to want to leave his mouth, but his face must say it for him because he sees understanding flash through Mobei Jun's eyes. 

They sit in heavy, awkward silence as Shang Qinghua hides under the blankets and tries to get himself under control, sniffling wretchedly and wishing he wasn't such a coward. 


Mobei Jun finally speaks, breaking the fraught atmosphere. "What preparations did Qinghua make before he assisted this king."

Shang Qinghua's breath catches. "Preparations?"

"You needed a week of time to make preparations. What were they."

Shang Qinghua has a flashback to Sex Research Week For Virgins 101 and his soul tries to exit his body prematurely. His king can't possibly be referring to that...?

"I want to see it," Mobei Jun says resolutely. "Your notes."

Oh god! He is! How does he even know about that?! Shang Qinghua opens his mouth to object, quailing at the mere thought of Mobei Jun seeing his sad stash of entry-level gay porn. 

Mobei Jun cuts him off, impatient. "This king already knows. Luo Binghe spoke to me after you saw him. He was very smug."

Shang Qinghua feels his face light up in a mortified blush. Luo Binghe! You traitorous dog!! See if this one ever does anything good for you ever again, you unfilial son!

Mobei Jun is still watching him. "This king would like to see," he says stubbornly. There's a determined jut to his jaw and a steely glint in his eyes as he stares Shang Qinghua down. He won't be easily dissuaded. 

Giving up, Shang Qinghua waves goodbye to his dignity and directs Mobei Jun to the innocuous book where he'd compiled all the notes he'd taken during sex research week. He does not bring the collection of raunchy novels, illustrations, and poems on the shelf below to his king's attention. The notes themselves are bad enough!

Mobei Jun, somehow reading his mind, still sees them, and takes out the entire block of porn to examine, to Shang Qinghua's silent dismay. He studies the cover of Shang Qinghua's notes first, which is humble and unassuming plain text with no decoration. 

"The Care and Fertilization of Frost-Resistant Dragon Bone Cantaloupes," he reads, his expression giving away none of his thoughts. 

Shang Qinghua turns bright red. "It needed to sound boring!"

"Hmm," Mobei Jun says, flipping it open curiously. 

Shang Qinghua nearly screams out loud! 

"My king, no!! Don't read it here!"

"Why not?"

Shang Qinghua's ears burn. His notes are open to a page with a diagram. His face is NOT thick enough for this right now. 

"Doesn't my king want to, um, to study such things in private?!"

"Why? If this king has a question, I can simply ask you."

Shang Qinghua feels his soul making another attempt to leave. "D-don't you want a second opinion aside from this humble servant?!" he chokes out.

My king, please! This servant is grasping at straws! Find some mercy in you and leave to make this venture a self-study program! Your poor servant is still feeling a little emotionally fragile right now and may not survive your relentless interrogation about sex tips! 

Mobei Jun looks thoughtful, tapping a finger on the cover of his notes. "Yes," he finally agrees. "That might be useful." Shang Qinghua blinks up at him, nonplussed, as Mobei Jun stands abruptly and gathers all the reading material into one stack, tucking it under one arm and turning to leave. 

"M-my king, wait, wait! Um, when...when will you…?"

Mobei Jun looks at him. "This king would prefer to finish this as soon as possible. Your condition worsens by the day. A human body is not meant to withstand such a powerful demonic poison." He rests a hand against Shang Qinghua's cheek, then his forehead, a cool and grounding weight. His blue eyes are...worried? 

Shang Qinghua feels an overwhelming rush of anxiety start to rise in his chest, but Mobei Jun's hand drops, and he pulls the covers up to Shang Qinghua's chin. "But this king will wait." He meets Shang Qinghua's eyes steadily, with no trace of embarrassment. "This king would never force Qinghua into something he didn't want."

Somehow, that makes Shang Qinghua sort of…start tearing up again! Why?! How embarrassing! 

"Okay," he whispers, dragging his watering eyes away. "Um. Let's spare a few preparation days for my king then." He manages a weak smile. "Two days from now?"

Mobei Jun nods regally. "Two days. This Mobei Jun will not fail you."

He stands up and calls for his head healer to come in. They hold a short conversation, the healer glancing occasionally at Shang Qinghua before she nods and bows deeply. Mobei Jun straightens and Shang Qinghua watches him open a portal and step through. Their eyes meet briefly before the portal closes smoothly behind him. 

Shang Qinghua shivers at the depth of emotion he saw in his king's eyes, pulling the blankets up over his head to cover his hot face. 


Two days.

 

Chapter Text

The two days pass by in a strange haze, the hours moving too slowly and too quickly at the same time. Shang Qinghua spends most of it sleeping under the watchful eye of Mobei Jun's head healer, his body heavy and uncomfortable, his extremities numb. Asleep, he doesn't have to be afraid or think about his own mortality. 

He wakes up shivering a lot. A very hot bath helps, but only for a little while. His cultivation has been compromised to the point where he can't regulate his temperature anymore, his qi barely a fizzle in his ruined spiritual veins. Mobei Jun's head healer has to set up a temperature monitoring array, piling him with blankets and ordering her apprentice to constantly stoke the small fireplace in his room so that he doesn't accidentally die in his sleep from the unforgiving cold of the northern palace. She also has to harass him into eating, because he can't sustain any kind of inedia in this state.

Shang Qinghua obediently eats his scheduled meals, submits to being bathed until he's pink all over from the hot water, and endures being carried back to his nest of blankets, where he crawls in, shivering miserably and waiting for Mobei Jun to return. His sleep is shallow and prone to nightmares that he can't remember when he wakes. 

He wishes pathetically that his king was back already. They should've just done it that day and gotten it over with. They would've, if he hadn't been such a pussy! Then he wouldn't be stuck in this sustained state of anxiety, waiting for something to happen to him. 

---

He's awake when Mobei Jun returns, but only barely, pulling himself groggily back to consciousness when he hears voices in the background. 

He turns to face the murmuring, blinking slowly at the sight of the head healer bowing and reporting to Mobei Jun. His king looks the same as he ever does, almost ethereal in how beautiful he is. Shang Qinghua stares at him for a long, indulgent moment before Mobei Jun catches his gaze. He dismisses his healer at once, striding to Shang Qinghua's side. A frission of nervous anticipation crackles up Shang Qinghua's spine as Mobei Jun settles on the bed next to him, but he's too tired to do more than blink and try to smile. 

"My king," he greets. 

"Shang Qinghua. This king has returned. What is your condition." He sheds his cloak, draping it over Shang Qinghua. How considerate! 

"I'm - uh, this servant is okay, I guess." Shang Qinghua rolls onto his back. Hmm. He was going to sit up, but he doesn't think he can do that without help. Flat on his back like an invalid it is! 

"My king, since you've returned, are your uh, preparations complete?" 

"Yes." Mobei Jun frowns, studying him. "You look tired."

Shang Qinghua laughs weakly. He's very aware of how shitty he looks right now, thanks!

"This servant doesn't think this is a problem that will go away with more sleep."

Mobei Jun lays a hand on his chest. Shang Qinghua's heart rate spikes a few notches before he realizes that Mobei Jun is feeding him a small stream of spiritual energy. The cool flow of qi in his depleted body is incredibly soothing, and he suddenly feels a lot more awake and less cold.

"Better?"

"Oh, that's - yes, my king, that actually helped a lot!"

He blinks at Mobei Jun, his head clear for the first time in days, and all the anxiety he's been suppressing immediately comes crawling back. It must show on his face, because Mobei Jun removes his hand. 

"This king will wait." 

Shang Qinghua shakes his head decisively. He doesn't want to wait anymore! He's tired of being scared and feeling like shit. He also very much does not want to die.

"My king, we should do it right now."

Mobei Jun stares at him, unblinking. He looks so serious. Lighten up, my king! 

"Are you sure?"

"This servant is ready." Shang Qinghua musters a trembling smile. "I'm at your mercy, my king."

"Very well," Mobei Jun says solemnly. He stands up and starts undressing.

So fast! His king truly is a man of action! 

Any trace of sleepiness in Shang Qinghua disappears abruptly. He really wishes he was sitting up for this! He wants a better view! If he had a phone he'd be frantically taking pictures! No, video! 1080p HD! Instead, he gets to lay flat on his back like a senior citizen, his head turned eagerly to one side for an appetizing, up-close view of Mobei Jun's...waistline as his king undoes his sash and shrugs out of his outer robe. 

Okay, not bad, not bad, but like...can he request a better angle? Full body shot? 

"My king can you maybe...scoot back a little?" he asks, his mouth firing off before his brain catches up. He claps a hand over his traitorous mouth, but the horses have already left the building! 

Mobei Jun glances at him, slightly confused. He obediently retreats a few steps. 

Better! Much better! Now he can see all of his king without having to crane his neck at an ungodly angle! Shang Qinghua gets comfortable, pillowing his cheek on a cushion for an optimal viewing experience. "Please continue, my king!" he chirps, trying to sound encouraging. 

Mobei Jun eyes him with something like amusement. Instead of shucking all his clothes impatiently into a crumpled pile like the imperious and uncaring king he is, he moves slowly, his powerful hands lingering on each undone fastening as if he's showing off, cognizant of Shang Qinghua's greedy gaze. 

Huh. This is very unlike him! Maybe Shang Qinghua is reading into it too much, but this feels sort of...deliberate? Planned? Calculated for maximum seductive effect?

So the thing is...Shang Qinghua is sort of an expert in this field! By that, he means that he knows exactly how Mobei Jun undresses. After all, he's been the sole witness to his king haphazardly shedding his clothes and tossing them at Shang Qinghua's head to be cleaned and repaired more times than he can count! This relaxed pace is totally unlike Mobei Jun, who usually prefers to throw his priceless, richly embroidered robes impatiently onto the dirty floor, regardless of his faithful servant's pleading! 

Mobei Jun is still watching him, his eyes slightly hooded. There's a tiny smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, an infinitesimal indicator of smugness. He bends over and starts undoing his boots. 

...

Mobei Jun does not usually take his boots off like this. 

He's bent practically in half, ass up in an unmistakably deliberate manner as he slowly, painstakingly loosens the ties binding his calves and ankles. Shang Qinghua has personally watched his king snap these ties with one impatient motion before kicking the entire boot off like an unruly child. Yet now, it's taking him forever just to undo a single measly tie? My king, you're obviously doing this on purpose! 

Mobei Jun's hair covers his face like a dark curtain as he bends down further, the heavy silken stream sliding across his broad shoulders with a soft whisper, dark strands falling artfully across his neck and chest as he switches to his other boot, treating his flustered servant to a grade-A view of his ass the entire time. Shang Qinghua gulps, heat blooming to life somewhere below his navel as he continues to stare, unable to look away. 

This...this is really too much, isn't it?! His face feels like it's on fire! It's one thing to sneak peeks while crawling about on the floor and gathering Mobei Jun's discarded robes. It's another thing to be so...so blatantly catered to like this! Has Mobei Jun known this whole time? Shang Qinghua has never been able to help himself! His king's body is too sublime to not ogle!  

Mobei Jun finally straightens, stepping out of his boots and tossing them aside before glancing at Shang Qinghua. Oh, he's definitely smirking now! There's a distinctly predatory gleam in his eye, and he makes direct eye contact as he starts undoing the ties to the next layer of his robes with lazy, unhurried motions. 

Shang Qinghua drops his gaze, blushing all the way up to his ears as Mobei Jun leisurely undoes a row of loops leading from his collar down to his hip, his long, elegant fingers moving deftly to pinch each fastening apart. His mouth dry, Shang Qinghua tries, miserably, not to imagine his king's hands on his nipples instead, and fails spectacularly. 

What's with this lead-up, my king?! This servant wasn't expecting dinner and a show! 

Mobei Jun finally undresses down to his thin inner trousers, to the tune of Shang Qinghua's steadily rising blood pressure. Shang Qinghua thinks his king will probably stop there for modesty's sake, and maybe he'll get a chance to catch his breath, or drink some water, or stare some more at his king's bare chest, or - or something. Unexpectedly, Mobei Jun drops his pants too, leaving himself completely naked!! 

Shang Qinghua thinks he makes a sound. He looks away to try and be polite, but his eyes keep snapping back to Mobei Jun's body like they're magnetized. 

The glorious angles of Mobei Jun's naked body could inspire an entire anthology of erotic poetry. The swoon-worthy breadth of his chest and shoulders down to the narrow taper of his waist and hips deserves to be immortalized in the finest white jade. Shang Qinghua moans a little. His hands itch to touch all that flawless skin. His mouth keeps flooding with saliva and he has to swallow at regular intervals to keep from drooling.

Mobei Jun preens under Shang Qinghua's voracious gaze. He stretches slowly, raising his arms above his head and twisting to one side until his spine makes a very satisfying series of cracks. This also draws attention to his straining biceps and pulls every muscle on the front of his body into sharp relief. His extremely impressive third leg twitches against the lean muscle of his thighs. 

Shang Qinghua definitely makes a sound! High-pitched. Awed. Worshipful. God, he is so sweaty right now.

It's not like he hasn't seen his king like this before! But last time he hadn't been able to appreciate the view as much as he liked, since he was suffering from severe performance anxiety! This time, he gets to lie back and look his fill, greedy. Is this what having a religious experience feels like?  

Mobei Jun smirks at his poleaxed expression, pleased. He strides over, graceful, unembarrassed, totally naked, and sits down on the bed next to Shang Qinghua. Naked. 

Shang Qinghua stares openly at him for several long seconds before Mobei Jun's expectant gaze finally registers. He snaps his mouth closed, flushing. 

Oh, right. It's his turn now. 

He rapidly becomes hyperaware of himself now that Mobei Jun's attention is fixed on him. He's mostly covered by the blankets and Mobei Jun's heavy cloak, but underneath, he's only wearing a thin sleeping robe. He gulps weakly and reaches down to untie it. 

My king, did you really have to start off so strong? How can you expect this humble servant to follow up after a performance like that, huh? 

His heart pounds very hard in his chest as he struggles with the little loops. There's no grace to his motions. His hair is undone, loose around his shoulders and smushed flat in a messy starburst under his head because he was too tired to braid it before falling asleep after his bath this morning. He feels extremely small, kinda sweaty, and very undignified compared to the adonis of a man sitting next to him. Why aren't his fingers cooperating with him? 

Mobei Jun rests a hand on his chest, stilling him. "Shang Qinghua," he says, soft. The way his king says his name, quiet and intimate, makes Shang Qinghua start to shake. 

No, he's got this! He's not going to freak out! He's not going to cry or embarrass himself in front of his king again! He still trembles helplessly as Mobei Jun starts to stroke his chest through the blankets. They haven't even touched! He was so into it like five seconds ago, why is he losing it now?!

"Qinghua," Mobei Jun says again. He's so close, leaning in towards Shang Qinghua, his hair trailing over his bare chest and shoulders, spilling across Shang Qinghua's face like silk strands. 

"I'm okay," Shang Qinghua croaks, breathing fast and trying not to flinch away. His eyes feel hot. He doesn't want to say something lame and unsexy like 'I'm nervous!' and ruin the mood, because it's not like he doesn't want this! He just - he wishes that his body was a little bit more functional right now so that he could actually participate instead of having to lie uselessly on his back and spread his legs to be done like a convalescent maiden awaiting her curative dose of papapa! 

"You're shaking."

"Haha! This servant is just, um. Chilly!"

Mobei Jun immediately rests both hands on Shang Qinghua's shoulders, funneling more qi into him to help bleed away the cold. With his cultivation so shot, it won't last long, but it helps a lot. 

"Better?"

Shang Qinghua nods. He licks his lips nervously and Mobei Jun's gaze falls, heavy, to his mouth. Shang Qinghua flushes at how obvious it is. His heart hammers wildly in his chest and he closes his eyes, bracing instinctively as Mobei Jun reaches for him. It'll be fine! It'll be okay, and then he'll be cured.  

Mobei Jun's powerful hand alights against his face as softly as a butterfly landing upon a flower. He cradles Shang Qinghua's cheek in the palm of one hand, thumb moving in a gentle circle over his cheekbone. It's so incongruous to Shang Qinghua's expectations that he blinks owlishly, surprised out of his fearful huddle. Mobei Jun doesn't move towards him, simply watching him, patient.

"Qinghua. Will you allow this king to kiss you?" 

Shang Qinghua's breath catches somewhere between his heart and his throat. He shivers, looking up into Mobei Jun's calm eyes with a weird sense of deja-vu. 

He nods. 

Mobei Jun takes his face in both hands, holding him carefully. Shang Qinghua closes his eyes and tilts his head up to be kissed, blushing deeply. Even forewarned, he still gasps, thoughts stumbling, when Mobei Jun's cool mouth meets his. 

...It's soft. 

He knows this objectively, because he got the wild opportunity to kiss these very same lips before! But there is a very big difference between then and now.

Kissing Mobei Jun back then was wonderful! Sure, it was sort of wet and awkward until they got the hang of it, and he'd really been feeling the pressure to perform, but it had been great! 

Being kissed by Mobei Jun makes him feel like all the blood in his veins has suddenly carbonated, sending fizzy tingles through every part of his body. He shivers and makes a little sound as Mobei Jun presses deeper, encouraging their mouths together in slow waves - close, then apart, as even as breathing. 

Shang Qinghua was - is still nervous, but Mobei Jun doesn't seem to be in any sort of rush. He continues to kiss, slow and surprisingly gentle, until the tension in Shang Qinghua's shoulders begins to loosen. He doesn't attempt to bite even once! 

It's...not bad. It's not bad at all. In fact, it's nice. Really nice. Why was he freaking out again? He finds himself squeezing Mobei Jun's very sexy shoulders as they continue to kiss, hoping for more. Mobei Jun obliges easily, opening his mouth and tilting them to a great new angle, his powerful hand cradling Shang Qinghua's face with incredible care. It's probably not very comfortable for him, leaning awkwardly over Shang Qinghua while seated at the edge of the bed. Shang Qinghua pulls away for a second to murmur against Mobei Jun's mouth. 

"My king, do you um, want to maybe get on top of me?"

Mobei Jun huffs a laugh before moving to straddle him, and oh, it's a lot more real now with 200+ pounds of demon king balanced on top of him. The tactile weight of his king's body could go from pleasant to threatening very quickly, with very little Shang Qinghua could do to stop it from happening. He takes a deep, shivery breath, and calms himself down forcibly. His king is trying very hard! He definitely looks a little nervous! Shang Qinghua has been in literally this exact position before, and he doesn't want to add to the stress! 

"Qinghua," Mobei Jun asks, resting a hand on his chest. He's watching Shang Qinghua's face with a fierce, focused gaze, studying his expression for any hint of discomfort. 

Shang Qinghua smiles, flushing. "It's fine, my king. It's not too much. It's just enough." He tilts his head up in offering, closing his eyes, and feels the soft, cool exhale against his lips as Mobei Jun leans down to meet him. 

A passing thought occurs to him as Mobei Jun eases their mouths together. His king is…very good at kissing. He kisses slow and deep in a steady, tidal rhythm, with a thoroughness that threatens to melt Shang Qinghua's brain. How is he so good?! He wasn't this good last time, but maybe Shang Qinghua had been too distracted by his king's...everything? God, Mobei Jun really seems to be making it his mission in life to kiss Shang Qinghua into the bed until he fuses with it. It's a good thing Shang Qinghua was already lying down, because if he wasn't, he'd melt down the wall like a smear of jello as his legs gave out underneath him! 

Mobei Jun curls one arm around Shang Qinghua's back to hold him close, his other hand sliding up to cup the nape of Shang Qinghua's neck as he kisses him firmly. The weight of him settled heavily over Shang Qinghua's hips and thighs actually feels comforting, grounding. It makes him feel...engulfed. Safe. Sort of turned on. 

He definitely moans when Mobei Jun nips his bottom lip, exploratory. He's starting to go lightheaded from how intently Mobei Jun is kissing him, and heat keeps flickering through him in delicious little bursts. He...wants. He wants more than this slow, simmering kissing. 

"Mmph," he mumbles against Mobei Jun's mouth, which isn't what he wanted to say at all. Mobei Jun hums back, which vibrates very sexily between their joined lips. Okay, yeah, he's definitely a little turned on now. Feeling daring, he rests a hand against the back of Mobei Jun's neck, tugging him closer. Encouraged, Mobei Jun starts to ramp up the intensity, his arm tightening around Shang Qinghua as he starts to kiss deep, sliding his tongue along the shape of Shang Qinghua's mouth, coaxing him to open up. 

Haha, is this french kissing? Are they frenching? It's so...wet, but like, in a really hot way? He catches himself moaning as Mobei Jun tilts his head up to get a better angle, and hurriedly tries to stop. No need to add more sound effects to this rated-R scene! 

Mobei Jun licks into his open mouth, coaxing another embarrassing noise out of him. He bites lightly at Shang Qinghua's tongue, which feels way sexier than it sounds. My king, must you bite everything ? This servant will give you a pass this time, because it feels really fucking good, but my king, please! Your teeth are very sharp! Plus, there are other places you could use them! 

Shang Qinghua breaks free with a wet gasp, breathing hard and clutching at Mobei Jun's shoulders. "My king," he says pleadingly, tilting his head up in offering. 

Mobei Jun blinks at him for a second. Then he seems to remember that Shang Qinghua has an entire body to kiss, not just a mouth, and starts putting that knowledge to good use. 

Shang Qinghua makes a hoarse, breathy sound, his head lolling back as Mobei Jun sucks a hard kiss into the line of his jaw. God that feels good. Is this what it felt like when he'd done this to his king? He definitely should have done some more of this! Hindsight sure is 20/20! 

"Qinghua," Mobei Jun murmurs. His lips trail across Shang Qinghua's neck as he presses a long kiss into his racing pulse with just enough suction to leave a red mark. His fingers press into Shang Qinghua's nape, his hand nearly big enough to encircle Shang Qinghua's entire neck. Shang Qinghua shudders, defenseless under the onslaught. Hearing his king say his name like that, so close, all intimate and earnest. God, that's - that's so - 

Any thoughts still in his head immediately disperse as his king's too-sharp eyeteeth graze his neck. Shang Qinghua's libido perks right up! Something else perks right up in the downstairs department too! Wow, hello, okay, that's - that's definitely something he likes! He'll just file that in the wank bank for uh, for future reference. 

He thinks he makes a sound, because Mobei Jun does it again, biting harder this time. Shang Qinghua can feel the points of his king's teeth pressing into him, hard enough that the threat of breaking skin is just a breath away. His throat works helplessly, trying to hold back the keening whimper his body wants to make as he recalls the terrifying mental image of Mobei Jun at a feast, shattering a roasted femur the width of his forearm with a single casual crunch of splintering bone. His king essentially has the bite force of a 30-foot crocodile! My king, please be careful with your pathetic servant's fragile neck!! But also, this is kind of ridiculously hot?! He gets the hype about vampires now, he gets it!! 

Mobei Jun, unaware of Shang Qinghua's inner horny turmoil, licks him, his tongue cool, then bites him again. Shang Qinghua gives up and starts to whine, squirming as a hot spark of pleasure coils down his spine to simmer low between his hips. Living with demons for so long has really warped his sense of what turns him on, huh? 

Mobei Jun continues to kiss his way downwards, leaving a trail of mouth-shaped bruises all the way to Shang Qinghua's collarbones. He drags the sheets down and off as he goes, shifting impatiently so that he can shove them out of the way. Shang Qinghua gulps, his nerves spiking as he curls into himself instinctively. No more blankets to hide behind!

Mobei Jun seems to catch his apprehension, pulling away to sit back and study him, his reactive pupils dilating and then slitting slowly in the sudden silence. 

...Please don't stare like that, my king! It makes a man feel very nervous and sort of inadequate! Also, why did you stop kissing...? Can we get back to that? 

"Will you allow this Mobei Jun to touch you, Qinghua?"

Shang Qinghua blinks in surprise, fighting the urge to laugh nervously. Touch him? Hasn't Mobei Jun been touching him this whole time? 

"Of - of course, my king."

Mobei Jun hums and bends down to kiss him again. This time, his hands come to rest heavily on Shang Qinghua's chest. 

Shang Qinghua shivers at the weight of it, but Mobei Jun is really just - just touching him, running his hands along the planes of Shang Qinghua's body in slow, smooth movements like he's trying to map Shang Qinghua's body with his palms alone. It's…extremely pleasant, and Mobei Jun's hands leave cool goosebumps in their wake. The lingering tension in Shang Qinghua's shoulders slowly melts away under this diligent attention, and he finds himself relaxing, kissing back eagerly. 

A fire is banking steadily within him as Mobei Jun keeps the pace slow, moving attentively along Shang Qinghua's body. His hands are so big, the strength in every finger so carefully contained. He could pulverize Shang Qinghua's entire ribcage and scoop out his heart as easy as breathing, but all he does is touch, gentle, the weight of his palm and each squeeze of his fingers an exercise in restraint. How good would it feel if his king's hands were pressed against him skin to skin? Those lingering touches dragging possessively over his bare chest and shoulders, those powerful hands squeezing appreciatively at his waist and hips. Shang Qinghua's mouth goes dry at the thought of it, and he starts to whine softly into Mobei Jun's mouth. He's only wearing one thin sleeping robe, but it still feels like he's overheating under it just from being groped a little! He tugs at Mobei Jun's wrist, trying to encourage him to go faster. This servant can withstand a lot more groping, my king! Please feel free to fondle as you wish! 

Mobei Jun pauses to look at Shang Qinghua's hand around his wrist. He huffs, his eyes going half-lidded before he sits back and starts undoing the ties on Shang Qinghua's sleeping robe one by one. 

Shang Qinghua's breath comes short, his heart hammering in his chest. Just the fact that Mobei Jun is being so deliberate, meticulously undoing each tie instead of simply tearing the robe apart like tissue paper…he's being so careful. It sort of makes Shang Qinghua feel like he's being unwrapped. Like a present. 

It's this thought that makes his entire face burn bright red as Mobei Jun undoes the final tie and pulls apart his inner robe, revealing him. 

He hides his face in his hands and makes a sound like a teakettle coming to a boil. He feels very naked! It's not like he wasn't naked before when they'd done it the first time, but that was very different from now! Mobei Jun's eyes are so sharp, studying him. The weight of his attention like this is too much! What if he doesn't like what he sees? Maybe he'll get up and leave, or worse, look totally disgusted! Shang Qinghua tries to curl into a little ball to hide the goods. Mobei Jun stops him, resting a hand on his knee. 

"Don't hide."

"Not hiding," Shang Qinghua protests around his hands, trying to hide. 

"Lie back," Mobei Jun tells him. It's phrased like a command, but contains none of his king's usual brusqueness. Instead, his voice is soft. Sincere. His hand moves to frame Shang Qinghua's hip, his thumb rubbing lightly over the crest of one hipbone. "Let this king see you, Shang Qinghua."

Defeated, Shang Qinghua slumps back and closes his eyes, flushing and fighting the urge to turtle into himself. He can't see Mobei Jun looking at him, but he can feel it. His king's gaze holds a physical weight and heat to it where it rakes slowly over his chest, dragging down along his abdomen and hips, to his thighs and then back up. Goosebumps shiver wildly to life along his arms and chest as he fights the urge to squirm. This is humiliating!! 小 Qinghua has never felt so 小 before! He's going to rebrand as 大 Qinghua for his mental health, right after he finishes dying of shame! 

He yelps in surprise when Mobei Jun's hand lands on his chest. His eyes fly open, and Mobei Jun's face is an inch away from his, those pale blue eyes boring into his with a frightening depth of emotion. 

"Allow this king to kiss you, Qinghua." 

"Allowed!" Shang Qinghua squeaks. 

The kiss is a lot more uh...vigorous this time. Mobei Jun kisses with such intent, his hands greedy, his mouth covetous, biting eagerly at Shang Qinghua's lips, dragging their tongues together wetly. Shang Qinghua feels slightly overloaded with sensation, kissed so passionately that all he can do is moan, pressed flat into the mattress as Mobei Jun cages him in and devours him whole. It's all he can do to remember to breathe as he tries to kiss back, his head spinning as he's kissed out of his mind.

When Mobei Jun finally pulls away to let him breathe, all Shang Qinghua can do is stare unseeing at the ceiling, gasping for air and panting like he's just sprinted a 5k. 

"Good?" Mobei Jun asks, resting a possessive hand against Shang Qinghua's neck. 

"Yeah," Shang Qinghua manages, completely winded. 

"Mm," Mobei Jun says, looking satisfied. He leans down and starts kissing Shang Qinghua again, slowly this time, deep and lingering, his hands roaming over Shang Qinghua's chest, caressing his sides. 

This is starting to feel a lot less like an unpleasant duty his king has to attend to and a lot more like - like - uh, his mind can't come up with a fitting alternative. But the tenderness that he's being treated with, the obvious care. The gentle movements of his king's very powerful hands, which Shang Qinghua has personally seen crush the skulls of other demons like soda cans. It's... really something! 

Mobei Jun tilts his head, slotting their mouths together and Shang Qinghua is thoroughly distracted by the delicious wet friction for several long minutes. His eyes drift shut to better take in every sensation - the drag of his king's lips where they press into his own, the cool swipe of his tongue, the occasional soft bite to his lower lip. The kissing is so good, it makes time go all slow and soft around him, languid, honey-thick, amber-warm. He never wants it to stop? He definitely should have kissed on his king a little more during The Cure Part 1!

When Mobei Jun starts to kiss down along the line of his body, Shang Qinghua definitely makes a sad, protesting noise. My king, where are you going? Come back…? His dreamy thoughts stutter abruptly as Mobei Jun licks wetly across his nipple.

"My king," he gasps, all his strength leaving him in a rush. Mobei Jun's tongue is so cool against his overheated skin that it feels like his whole body shivers into one huge wave of goosebumps from the sudden chill. 

Mobei Jun makes a pleased sound and purses his lips, sucking lazily. Shang Qinghua's entire spine arcs right up like he's got no control over it! He starts to stammer, grasping aimlessly at Mobei Jun's arms and shoulders. Without missing a beat, Mobei Jun calmly gathers both of Shang Qinghua's wrists in one big hand and pins his arms above his head. He drags his tongue leisurely across Shang Qinghua's chest, switching sides, biting him lightly just to be mean. 

Shang Qinghua makes a strangled, incoherent little moan, his eyes fluttering shut as he arches into the touch. How does Mobei Jun know how to do this?! Shang Qinghua is pretty sure this wasn't in any of the reading material, and it definitely wasn't in his interview notebook! Is his king some kind of sex prodigy? What kind of hack did he download and where did he find it?! 

He squirms helplessly as Mobei Jun spans a hand over his ribs before thumbing leisurely over his nipple, alternately pinching and rubbing, cruelly disregarding Shang Qinghua's writhing without a hint of mercy! 

"My king, ah, my king, please take pity on this humble servant!" he cries, finally at his limit when Mobei Jun bends down to lick him again, the chilly press of his king's fangs against the sensitive skin sending another wave of goosebumps cascading across his chest. 

"Mm," Mobei Jun says. He doesn't look very merciful! 

To Shang Qinghua's relief, Mobei Jun very magnanimously rests his knee between Shang Qinghua's legs to let him grind into it as he mouths his way back up to capture Shang Qinghua's mouth with his own. Shang Qinghua groans brokenly into the kiss as he moves obediently against his king's leg. It's good, it's so good, ah, god he's so hard now that it's kind of embarrassing!

He's vaguely aware of something that keeps banging against his thigh, and it's really distracting him from how nicely Mobei Jun is kissing him. Annoyed, he draws his leg up and tries to knock it away. 

Mobei Jun groans aloud, his spine arching, his hand spasming around Shang Qinghua's wrists. The annoying thing does not go away. It gets harder and starts to rub a little more insistently against him. 

Shang Qinghua's eyes fly open! His entire body clenches up with instinctive fear! He nearly screams out loud! 

Oh fuck! Oh shit!! That's definitely his king's dick! That enormous weapon was just casually rubbing up against his thigh, and he tried to smack it out of the air like it was a mosquito! I'm sorry, my king! This servant wouldn't have done that if he'd known it was your all-important heavenly pillar! 

Mobei Jun has stopped kissing him, sensing Shang Qinghua's silent distress. "What's wrong?" he asks, scowling and slightly breathless. 

"N-nothing's wrong, my king!" Shang Qinghua stammers. He is not going to consider what might have happened if he had accidentally kneed his king in the nuts! 

"If it's too much, then say so," Mobei Jun says. He lets go of Shang Qinghua's wrists, moving back to give him some space. 

Shang Qinghua immediately grabs his king's powerful biceps, holding him in place. "It's fine! It's not too much, I promise!" he blurts out. 

The kissing was spectacular! Definitely a 10 out of 10! The very hot 'pinning your lowly servant in place with one huge hand' thing was also extremely good! It's not Mobei Jun's fault that Shang Qinghua got a little scared at the reminder of his king's weapon of ass destruction! But even that had been sort of sexy? Mobei Jun is definitely hard already, even though they haven't done anything besides kiss and grope a little. That puffs Shang Qinghua's ego right up like an inflatable muscle man suit!  

"It's fine," he repeats, stroking hopefully along Mobei Jun's forearms. "It was good, my king. Everything felt really good. Don't stop?"

Mobei Jun studies him for another second before folding, leaning forward and cradling Shang Qinghua's face with one hand to kiss him again, sliding their bodies together smoothly. He's moving slow, probably trying to be considerate, but Shang Qinghua is still amped up from before and he wants more. He wants to be touched, he wants to be kissed, he wants to be held down and held open! He wants

"Ah my king, my king," he sighs, tilting his head back in open supplication and spreading his legs, grinding harder into the muscle of Mobei Jun's thigh as Mobei Jun starts to kiss down along the column of his throat. My king, do you get the picture? Please get the picture! This master is throwing away his dignity in favor of spreading his legs here! 

Mobei Jun pauses, then continues kissing him with more vehemence, nipping him roughly, pressing hard enough with his tongue and teeth that he leaves a chain of bruises behind. 

...This is all very well and good, but at this rate there won't be a single inch of Shang Qinghua's neck that's unbruised by the end of the night! He's going to have to wear high-collared robes for weeks to hide all this! And why isn't Mobei Jun paying any attention to 小 Qinghua, who is obviously awake and ready for action?! My king, this master is not a chew toy! He's a man! And he's starting to get frustrated! 

"My king, please," he whines, squeezing at Mobei Jun's arms and hoping that he looks pitiful and extremely fuckable. Does his king need some encouragement? He rolls his hips into his king's leg again, hoping that he won't have to ask to be fucked out loud! Seized by sudden inspiration, he pats his way down Mobei Jun's chest, down to his hip, and he's just about to grab his king's awe and fear-inspiring erection when Mobei Jun catches him by the wrist. 

"No," he growls, batting Shang Qinghua's eager hand away. "Lie back."

He's not even allowed to touch?! This is unfair! This is mean! This is bullying! 

Shang Qinghua collapses back onto the cushions, feeling deeply mistreated. "As my king commands," he says sulkily. Mobei Jun seems satisfied with his compliance though, rewarding him by leaning down to mouth at his chest again. Shang Qinghua's uncharitable thoughts evaporate like sun-warmed mist as Mobei Jun's tongue circles his nipple, the lazy suction of his mouth and the slight tug of his teeth dragging a small, thready cry out of Shang Qinghua's throat. 

Okay okay, maybe he was being a little too hasty and judgmental! He's willing to take back all his unkind thoughts if it means his king continues doing this! 

Shang Qinghua spends the next several minutes in very enjoyable repentance as Mobei Jun continues making his way downwards, following the flexing line of Shang Qinghua's body with his mouth and hands. He thinks he makes a sound as Mobei Jun kisses past his navel. He definitely makes an abortive, jittery movement to - to stop him? But he doesn't want to stop. He jerks, surprised out of his pleasurable daze when Mobei Jun gets to his hip. His mind seems to be moving very slowly, unable to process anything past the soft, wet suction of his king's mouth, so close to...to - hey, wait, is his king - is he really going to…?

Mobei Jun licks wetly at his erection and Shang Qinghua jumps, startled speechless, his entire body jolting upwards in shock! 

"My king!" he shouts, his voice very high. "W-what are you - !"

Mobei Jun glares at him. He's wearing that expression of narrow, goal-oriented focus that Shang Qinghua has seen on stalking cats right before they pounce upon their unfortunate target. It sends chills skittering down Shang Qinghua's spine to be looked at like he's prey! Like he's about to be eaten alive!! 

"My king, but, you - I thought, aren't you gonna...?" he flaps a hand downwards expressively. 

Mobei Jun cocks his head. "This king would like to bring you pleasure first," he says, suspiciously smug.

Does he mean...? He can't possibly mean - ?!??

Mobei Jun dips his head back down, mouth open, eyes fixed unerringly on Shang Qinghua's dick! 

He does! He does mean it!!

Shang Qinghua yelps and claps his legs together, nearly clipping his king's perfect nose in the process. Mobei Jun gives him a deeply unimpressed look and Shang Qinghua sheepishly uncurls himself. "But my king, you don't have to!" he says, lamely wondering why he's cockblocking himself. 

"Yes," Mobei Jun agrees. His big hand curls lazily around Shang Qinghua's erection and he gives it a little stroke. "But I would like to."

Shang Qinghua's head spins with how quickly the blood in it rushes south. "Ah - you - you really don't have to!"

Mobei Jun clicks his tongue, irritated. "Allow this king to make his intentions clear." He lets go of Shang Qinghua's dick and…moves away?! My king! That's the opposite of making your intentions clear! 

Shang Qinghua's righteous indignation is immediately quelled as Mobei Jun resettles himself comfortably between Shang Qinghua's thighs. Turns out his king was just giving himself some room to work with! His thoughts dissolve into flustered screaming as Mobei Jun tugs his legs wider apart, resting his cool hands on the spread crooks of Shang Qinghua's knees to hold him open. 

Shang Qinghua immediately covers his face, too embarrassed to look! Mobei Jun's hands are big enough that they can nearly span his entire thigh. It's effortless for him to hold Shang Qinghua open like this. It's... it's a really big turn on for him, okay?!  

Mobei Jun starts to kiss down along his stomach again. Shang Qinghua's breath comes faster and shallower as his king gets closer and closer to primetime. He pauses at the curve of Shang Qinghua's hip, kisses over it, and then continues down to his thigh, completely bypassing Shang Qinghua's obvious erection. 

Shang Qinghua uncovers his eyes and peeks out. "My king? I think you missed."

Mobei Jun rolls an eye at him. Sadly, he does not bring his mouth any closer to Shang Qinghua's dick. Shang Qinghua rolls his hips hopefully, just in case his king needs some inspiration.

Wrong answer! Mobei Jun growls and presses him into the mattress. "Be still. Allow this king to prove his intentions."

Be still? My king, how can you ask this pitiful servant to be still when your mouth is an inch away from his dick?! That's asking for a bit much, isn't it?! 

"Ah, my king, this servant can tell that you're being very, um. Very intent. No need to prove anything! Haha!"

Mobei Jun sniffs disdainfully. "This king will decide that."

He holds Shang Qinghua down and starts to kiss slow mouth-shaped bruises into the soft skin of his hips and inner thighs, never getting close enough to even brush against Shang Qinghua's straining erection. 

Shang Qinghua's head lolls weakly against his arms. His hips circle restlessly, wanting. The muscles of his legs and thighs quiver, trembling under the strain of being held open. He keeps making these embarrassing, helpless sounds, growing louder the closer Mobei Jun gets to his dick. When he starts moving too much, Mobei Jun splays a heavy hand over his hip and holds him down mercilessly. 

My king, this is too cruel! This is unreasonable! This is torture!! 

"My king, please!" he cries, unable to bear the teasing. His hand flies out to clutch at Mobei Jun's face, catching the sharp curve of his king's beautiful jaw. Mobei Jun glares up at him accusingly and Shang Qinghua scrambles to apologize. He doesn't want Mobei Jun angry at him when his king's teeth are that close to his dick! 

To his surprise, Mobei Jun leans into the guiding pressure of his palm, allowing Shang Qinghua to pull him to the crest of one hip, leaving an enthusiastic new mark there. 

Hey, that's…surprisingly hot! Shang Qinghua exerts a little more force, digging his fingernails into the soft underside of his king's jaw. Mobei Jun narrows his eyes, but obediently kisses downwards, letting Shang Qinghua steer him towards the inside of his thigh. Shang Qinghua has to fight the slightly delirious urge to giggle aloud. Mobei Jun is just allowing himself to be towed around like some kind of big, sexy, bruise-making Zamboni machine! Okay, my king! This servant will be taking advantage of your generosity then! 

His hopes are soundly dashed when he tries to aim Mobei Jun toward his dick, and his king refuses to go!! Stubbornly staying in one spot and sucking an obstinate bruise there despite Shang Qinghua's increasingly-desperate tugging!! Shang Qinghua feels like an air traffic controller trying to direct an erratic flight towards a designated landing strip in the face of gale-force winds. My king, if you could please follow the blinking lights that lead directly to this humble servant's dick, it would be greatly appreciated! 

He realizes that he's starting to whine, making these pathetic little begging sounds as Mobei Jun mouths vengefully at him. His hips keep moving in greedy twitching motions, trying to get more - more something, more anything, but Mobei Jun's hands brace against his hipbones, holding him still with ruthless strength. He's so keyed up that he's already starting to drip, and he feels so needy, so desperate to be touched that he could cry with it. 

"Please!" he wails, feeling extremely pitiful. "Oh please, please, my king, please!" He should probably be ashamed that he's resorted to begging so quickly, but he's never been great at delayed gratification! He squirms wretchedly as Mobei Jun breathes out over his erection. He's too flustered to look, but the anticipation is really killing him here!

Mobei Jun hums, satisfied. The vibration of it so close to Shang Qinghua's dick makes him sob a little. "You want this?" he asks, as if Shang Qinghua isn't already begging for it!!

"Yes!" he barks, too quickly. "Yes! My king, yes, yes please - "

"Qinghua said that this king didn't have to." He gives Shang Qinghua a pointed stare, unbearably smug.  

Even now…even now, the bullying continues?! Shang Qinghua can't help the frustrated whine that bursts out of him. "I take it back! I take it back! My king, you have to, you have to! Please, please - "

Shang Qinghua sort of expects his king to keep drawing it out, because Mobei Jun is definitely an S like that. He does not expect Mobei Jun to, without a single warning, go down on him and start sucking hard enough that Shang Qinghua feels like his soul is vacating his body!

"Ah - " he says, and then he can't manage anything else, his eyes rolling back in his head as he arches up off the bed with a scream. 

Mobei Jun seems to like that, if the pleased sound he makes is any indication. He hikes one of Shang Qinghua's legs up over his shoulders to get a better angle and starts going at it like he was born to suck cock! 

Shang Qinghua thinks he's making a sound, or, maybe multiple sounds. Very loudly. But he can't really uh, control his reactions right now! His brain feels like it's dripping out of his ears. He can't chain a single thought together. Words spill out of him in an incoherent babble that he'd find embarrassing at any other time, but not right now! Right now, his head is empty, every nerve ending alight, firing off spastically along dizzying spirals of pleasure. 

Where did Mobei Jun learn how to do this?! Isn't he embarrassed?! This is undignified for someone as strong and beautiful and - and as tall as his king! It's fine for Shang Qinghua to serve his king, but per the strict coolness-based world settings of PIDW, shouldn't there be like, some kind of penalty for his king to do it in reverse?! For someone like Mobei Jun to do something like this to Shang Qinghua is - ! 

His thoughts short out as Mobei Jun's tongue swirls around him in a slow circle that immediately has Shang Qinghua begging, words falling from his mouth like a spatter of rain. 

It's so good

Mobei Jun's mouth around him is wet and cool and mind-meltingly good. The tight, enveloping pressure when he hollows his cheeks to suck has Shang Qinghua shouting and dragging his nails heedlessly over Mobei Jun's neck and shoulders, scoring pink lines across pale skin, his nails too blunt to pierce through. The way that Mobei Jun drags his tongue along the head has Shang Qinghua moaning uncontrollably, his hips moving in helpless, jerky motions. Not even pressing a hand over his mouth can muffle the little sobbing cries that keep escaping him, but he doesn't have any available brain cells left to waste on feeling embarrassed! 

He cries out as Mobei Jun swallows around him, his entire body convulsing around the incredible sensation. For some reason, Mobei Jun growls threateningly around him. All of Shang Qinghua's survival instincts have been repurposed into horny instincts! The growl only registers as a very sexy sound and a heavenly vibration around his dick, and he sobs and squirms eagerly into it, chasing more. Mobei Jun growls again and this time he catches Shang Qinghua's calf with one hand, giving him a fierce warning shake. 

Shang Qinghua realizes that in his unrestrained enthusiasm, he's been kicking his king repeatedly in the stomach! Oops! He tries to muster up an apology, but when he opens his mouth, a shameful sound falls out instead and he gives up. Mobei Jun swallows around him and his knee jerks up again, involuntary, nailing his king directly in the ribs! Shang Qinghua tries to feel sorry about that, but can't muster up the appropriate remorse in the face of how fucking good everything feels.  

Mobei Jun, fed up, snarls and grabs him by the knee, folding his leg so that he can wrap an arm around Shang Qinghua's thigh, forcefully holding him still as he works. He's so strong, his arm encircling the entirety of Shang Qinghua's leg, pinning him in place like it's nothing. Shang Qinghua whimpers, wriggling uselessly against the solid barrier of Mobei Jun's arm. When that doesn't work, he starts snapping his hips up instead, greedy. He can't help it! He really can't help it! It's too good! 

Mobei Jun makes a disgruntled noise and pulls off halfway. Shang Qinghua instantly freezes in place. Oh shit! Was it too much? He remembers how Mobei Jun accidentally choked him out during The Cure Part 1 and forces himself still, grabbing at the blankets to ground himself even as the thought sends a hot spike of desire down his spine. He doesn't want to be responsible for choking out Mobei Jun, the king of the north, regent of the demon realms! 

Or does he...? A rebellious, downtrodden part of his hindbrain murmurs that it'd be just desserts for all those years of mistreatment! What's a little bit of sexy choking compared to decades of being slapped around like a pinata, huh? Also, the idea of his king, Mobei Jun, regent of the demon realms, one of the strongest demons in the entire world, gagging on Shang Qinghua's cock…. isn't that just, unbelievably hot? A ridiculous, face-slapping power fantasy that he'll never be able to live out ever again? Shang Qinghua, Rise!! This is your only chance! 

His dick twitches hard enough that Mobei Jun makes another startled sound around him. His arm tightens balefully around Shang Qinghua's leg, but he just glances up, giving Shang Qinghua a distinctly annoyed look before taking him all the way back into his mouth.

Staring at his king's dark eyelashes, the slight flush coloring his noble cheekbones, all of Shang Qinghua's bravado deflates like a punctured balloon. There's definitely something wrong with this picture! Mobei Jun, the cold and demanding king of the north, submitting to sucking off his servant like he's some kind of common courtesan? He's doing this to save Shang Qinghua's miserable life! And Shang Qinghua had the nerve to think big thoughts about choking him out on purpose! 

Aaah, he really wants to scream! Forgive this ungrateful servant, my king! It's already too much that Mobei Jun is lowering himself to this level for Shang Qinghua's sake! He can't allow it to continue! 

"My king! Wait!" he gasps, grabbing at Mobei Jun's hair and slapping at his broad shoulders. 

Mobei Jun pulls off with a pop, looking deeply resentful about having to stop. "What?" he demands, scowling and breathing hard. 

Shang Qinghua stares at his king's wet mouth and heaving chest, rapidly losing his train of thought. What was he going to say again? Oh, right - he can't allow Mobei Jun to throw away his dignity like this! But how should he phrase it…? 

The slight crease between Mobei Jun's brows deepens at Shang Qinghua's continued silence. "Is it bad?" 

Shang Qinghua flails all over himself to reassure him. "What?! No! No, my king, It's good! It's really good!"

"Then what are you trying to say."

"My king, ah, it's just that you um, you really shouldn't - "

Mobei Jun's eyes narrow as he catches the thread of Shang Qinghua's stammering. "You said I had to, and now you want me to stop?"

"No!! It's just - this servant is already grateful that my king is willing to cultivate with him to save his undeserving life. This one doesn't want my king to humble himself further just for this pathetic servant's sake! I mean, it's not like my king actually wants to do this…?"

Resounding silence. 

Mobei Jun levels a slow, incredulous stare at him. His hands tighten minutely on Shang Qinghua's thighs as his gaze graduates to a glower, and then to a full-fledged glare.

Shang Qinghua's erection is starting to flag a little at this weird atmosphere! Was it something he said? 

"My king?" he asks timidly. 

"Shang Qinghua. Do you want me to stop," Mobei Jun asks bluntly. His glare seems extremely mean. How unnecessary! This servant was only looking out for your dignity, my king! 

"Well, no, but - "

Mobei Jun reaches out and grabs Shang Qinghua's jaw, sliding three fingers into his mouth and shutting him up very decisively! Ignoring the indignant sputtering, he dips his head, licks Shang Qinghua's cock back into his mouth, and goes right back to sucking Shang Qinghua's immortal soul out through his dick! All Shang Qinghua can do is lie there and toss his head, writhing and making loud, incredibly unsexy sounds around Mobei Jun's fingers as his king takes him apart with his mouth.

Okay then! Message received! There's no telling the esteemed Mobei Jun what to do! Your dignity is your own to throw away as you wish, my king! This servant will just enjoy it without regrets! 

Shang Qinghua spends the next several minutes being blown out of his mind, letting out garbled wails as Mobei Jun very thoroughly demonstrates his intentions from between Shang Qinghua's splayed legs. At some point, Mobei Jun removes his oppressive fingers from Shang Qinghua's mouth, letting him cry out with abandon, his indecent moaning filling the small room. He'd be embarrassed about that if it didn't feel so incredibly good! Mobei Jun's mouth surrounds him so perfectly, not letting up for a single instant. It's as if he's punishing Shang Qinghua for making him stop earlier by taking him even harder to make up for it! Well! This master isn't complaining one bit! 

He doesn't know when he starts pulling at Mobei Jun's hair, is only conscious of a vague sense of mortification that his king is allowing it to happen, coupled with awe at how soft his king's hair is and how good it feels in his hands, and how good everything feels, so good, too good, so much -  

"My king," he gasps, tugging at Mobei Jun's hair with increasing desperation as his legs start to shudder, his spine tightening in inexorable, ascending increments. "Oh, god, my king, pull off, you have to - I'm gonna - I'm -"

Mobei Jun doesn't stop! He starts to growl, pleased, ignoring all of Shang Qinghua's babbling, his mouth greedy and voracious, his tongue curling tight around the head of Shang Qinghua's cock like he's trying to milk the orgasm right out of him! 

Shang Qinghua starts to sob, curling into himself, his mind boiling over at the overwhelming rush of sensation. "My kiing!" he wails, clawing at Mobei Jun's shoulders as his body starts to arc. Mobei Jun squeezes Shang Qinghua's thighs, his nails digging in just enough that it wavers on the fine edge between pleasure and pain. He sucks once, hard, dragging the pressure up along the entire length of Shang Qinghua's erection. 

It's too much! Too fucking much! Shang Qinghua spills over with a scream, his orgasm crashing relentless down his spine and roaring through him, whiting him out in a complete overload of pleasure. 

He drifts back into himself on a leisurely tide of contentment, blinking dreamily up at the familiar canopy of his bed and lying spreadeagle across the mattress, his chest heaving like a bellows. Everything feels all soft and limpid in the wake of one of the best orgasms he's ever had in his life! He's not sure his soul has fully returned to his body yet. His king really just sucked it right out! Come back! This master isn't dead yet! 

On the heels of that thought comes another, more important realization. 

"My king," he slurs, flopping to one side and patting dazedly at Mobei Jun's arm. "You….?"

Mobei Jun is lying next to him and watching him very, very intensely, eyes half-lidded and heavy with some kind of indiscernible emotion. He glances down at his very evident boner and dismisses it like it's not important to go back to staring hungrily at Shang Qinghua like he's a choice cut of steak. 

...huh? 

"You didn't finish." he perseveres. His king needs to come too! He needs to - to come inside! That's literally the most important part of this...? 

"I will," Mobei Jun reassures him.

Shang Qinghua's brow furrows. "But I already came…?" he asks, pitifully confused. 

"Yes," Mobei Jun agrees. "This king is waiting for Qinghua to be ready again."

Shang Qinghua stares blankly at him. His brain still isn't fully online or something, because he can't process this. "For me to…?" he repeats slowly. 

Mobei Jun nods at him indulgently. "So that Qinghua can finish again."

"Again?"

A slight crease appears between his king's beautiful brows. "Shang Qinghua. Did you think you would only finish once?"

Shang Qinghua, a brand new graduate from the school of 'never had a blowjob,' can only stare at him, eyes growing wider and wider. 

A thought occurs to him. 

HE'S going to be the recipient of the first-time multiple orgasms?! 

 

Chapter Text

"M-my king?" Shang Qinghua stammers, his brain threatening to shut down. "I uh…I sort of thought that once was the plan - "

"No," Mobei Jun interrupts, looking downright smug. "This Mobei Jun studied Qinghua's notes. Then, this king went to the Violet Smoke Flower Terrace to consult their expertise in giving pleasure. They taught this king various techniques through educational demonstrations. Upon each other," he amends, seeing Shang Qinghua's expression.

Shang Qinghua gapes at Mobei Jun, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. The Violet Smoke Flower Terrace is a famous house of pleasure run by the incubus and succubus clans of the north. His king went there?! To - for the purpose of - educational demonstrations, Shang Qinghua mouths in disbelief. Just the thought of his king sitting calmly, watching - watching, learning so that - so he could do the same to - Shang Qinghua chokes. He thinks he might pass out from how red he's turning. Also, why hadn't he thought of going to the succubi!! On second thought maybe not, they would have eaten him alive if he went by himself, but he could've gone to a human brothel for tips instead, and he didn't! He's a bad sex researcher! Why is his king so smart, and so sexy, and - 

"Were this king's preparations satisfactory?" Mobei Jun asks, still looking at him like he's a particularly tender prime rib. 

"Very," Shang Qinghua squeaks. 

"Good. This king studied diligently. There were many things to learn." He eyes Shang Qinghua appraisingly. "Once is insufficient for this king to demonstrate his competency."

Once was more than enough, my king!!! You were devastatingly competent! How many more rounds do you have planned?! This master isn't sure he has the stamina to withstand all your demonstrations!

To Shang Qinghua's disbelief and abject embarrassment, 小 Qinghua utterly betrays him and gives an interested twitch against his thigh. Thanks a lot, PIDW refractory period! 

Mobei Jun's eyes drift down and his gaze grows heavier, more interested. "Is Qinghua ready again?"

"My king!" Shang Qinghua cries, hiding his face with his forearms. "You really, um, went all out for this humble servant. You didn't have to!"

He doesn't know how else to articulate 'I thought you were just going to fuck me so that I wouldn't die but this is way more than I bargained for and it's starting to feel like a lot more than obligation sex?' 

"You were afraid," Mobei Jun says simply. "This king could not allow that to stand."

An immense emotion swells like a sudden riptide in Shang Qinghua's chest, the undertow of it threatening to pull him under. His eyes feel suspiciously hot and he breathes shakily through it, very glad that Mobei Jun can't see his face. "Thanks!" he croaks, feeling woefully inadequate. 

Mobei Jun, casually ignoring the fact that Shang Qinghua is Having a Moment, reaches out and squeezes his wrist. "Are you ready?" he asks again, patient. 

Shang Qinghua nods, and Mobei Jun rolls on top of him to tug his arms away, leaning down to kiss him. He kisses slow and languid, unhurried, using his tongue to coax Shang Qinghua into making soft, eager sounds. His hands seem to be everywhere, caressing, squeezing, his touch attentive and deliberate. Shang Qinghua does his best to kiss back, to touch back, his pulse picking up speed. He literally just finished, but little shivers of anticipation are already prickling through him at the controlled strength of Mobei Jun's hands, the heady weight of his king's hips and thighs pressing him down into the mattress. 

Mobei Jun bites at the junction of his neck and shoulder, hard enough that it will leave a mark, but not enough to break the skin. Shang Qinghua can feel the effort his king puts into making sure those oversized fangs don't cut him. He knows exactly how strong Mobei Jun is, how easily his king could manhandle him to his liking, but Mobei Jun just continues to carefully touch him like he’s got ‘Fragile! Handle with care! This side up!’ stickers plastered all over him. 

Mobei Jun nips him again, softer, before mouthing back up to catch Shang Qinghua’s bottom lip gently between his teeth. His eyes are barely open, long lashes fluttering as he leans into the kiss, deepening it with every slow drag of their mouths. His powerful hand slides up to cradle the back of Shang Qinghua’s neck, the tips of his fingernails pricking lightly behind Shang Qinghua’s ear. 

Shang Qinghua’s entire body flashes hot with desire. He appreciates the gentle handling, he really does! But it's not what he wants right now. He lunges up, catching Mobei Jun's mouth with his. Mobei Jun makes a surprised sound, but is quick to respond, kissing back readily. Shang Qinghua's head spins with the ferocity of it, the click of their teeth when they get too enthusiastic, the wet slide of Mobei Jun's tongue against his own. Yes! Yes!! More of this, please! 

"My king," he urges breathlessly between the deep, dragging kisses. He hooks an ankle around Mobei Jun's leg and tugs forward insistently. He digs his nails into Mobei Jun's wrist, wriggling and trying to coax his king's hand up into his hair. 

Mobei Jun's eyebrows tick up a fraction. His powerful hand slides up from the nape of Shang Qinghua's neck to sink dutifully into his hair instead, fingers curling into a slow fist. Shang Qinghua gasps, going cross-eyed with arousal as Mobei Jun pulls. A truly shameful noise escapes his mouth, like the discordant screech of a wild turkey! 

Mobei Jun's grip is tight enough that it yanks Shang Qinghua's head back at a sharp angle, baring his entire throat. Shang Qinghua arches his spine to try and lessen the strain, but Mobei Jun simply rests a hand over his ribs and presses down, effortlessly flattening him into the bed. Shang Qinghua makes another strangled noise, his hips jerking up of their own accord. He can feel his dick making a valiant effort to get hard again despite the limitations of his human body. This overwhelming stimulation is just too much! 小 Qinghua is a sprinter! Deadly in short bursts! Not very good with endurance events! At least give this poor servant some time to adjust, my king!

Mobei Jun, refusing to spare him a single second of mercy, mouths at his bared neck before shifting his weight forward, pinning Shang Qinghua firmly underneath him. Feeling a little desperate already, Shang Qinghua starts to rock up into the heavy, solid weight of him, wanting more, needing more. Mobei Jun indulgently allows this, moving his own hips in lazy circles until they're grinding together, slow and filthy.

"Good?" he asks, his gaze heavy, eyes half-lidded. He gives Shang Qinghua's hair a sharp tug that sends a bright shock of pleasure radiating down his spine, straight to his dick. Shang Qinghua makes a shameful sound, tossing his head and grinding up a little harder.

Why even ask, my king?! It's obviously very good?!

"Hm," Mobei Jun confirms, with a pleased little quirk to the corner of his lips. He's so smug! Truly insufferable! He leans down and catches Shang Qinghua's mouth in a long, leisurely kiss before turning his attention downward, laying diligent waste to the offered line of Shang Qinghua's neck and chest.

Shang Qinghua moans helplessly, scrabbling at Mobei Jun's arms, his shoulders, his back. He can feel the sharp prick of Mobei Jun's teeth, the slow, dragging suction of his tongue as he sucks a new bruise into the patchwork already decorating Shang Qinghua's neck. Mobei Jun's erection is pressed up against his own, the thick, hard length of his king's cock sliding deliciously along Shang Qinghua with every movement. The powerful curve of Mobei Jun's body over his makes him feel caged in, trapped and completely at Mobei Jun's mercy. The way Mobei Jun grabs his flailing hand and pins it to the bed definitely helps a lot with this impression! He can't help the way his legs fall apart in open surrender, giving up the goods immediately!

Mobei Jun makes his way back up to Shang Qinghua's mouth as they move together, branding him with fierce, claiming kisses that leave him lightheaded and gasping in their wake. He's rougher now, his mouth hard and eager, his tongue pressing deep and dragging wetly against Shang Qinghua's like he's trying to devour him whole. His grip in Shang Qinghua's hair is inexorable, turning his head like a pivot, directing him exactly where and how he wants with ruthless ease. It's all Shang Qinghua can do to kiss back, to hold his mouth open for Mobei Jun to plunder, his lips going numb from the consuming pressure of it. 

"Ah, my king, it's good, feels good," he's panting, murmuring what he can in the tiny space between each ravenous kiss. His breathing is coming all short and ragged, his head spinning. Is he hyperventilating a little? Maybe. Is his vision starting to blur slightly at the edges? Ehhh. Does he want to stop kissing Mobei Jun? No, not one bit! 

Mobei Jun pauses for a second, which makes Shang Qinghua whine sadly into his mouth and kick at him. The kick is extremely feeble, but apparently it's OOC enough that Mobei Jun stops to glare at him, scowling. The pause stretches as he blinks at Shang Qinghua's dazzled face, taking in his glassy eyes and frantic goldfish gasping. Then Mobei Jun lets go of his hair, which really makes Shang Qinghua start to whine. He was enjoying that! Don't stop, my king! 

"Breathe," Mobei Jun orders. He starts stroking Shang Qinghua's chest, his fingers cool against the overheated skin. Shang Qinghua inhales obediently, pressing greedily into the soothing touch. His entire body goes lax as he gulps air, panting raggedly like an overheated dog. Huh! So maybe he was getting close to passing out from being kissed so intensely. That would have been an exciting first! 

"More," he whispers when he's finally caught his breath, clutching at Mobei Jun's wrist. "More, my king."

Mobei Jun's eyes flash, chatoyant in the low light. He runs a thumb over Shang Qinghua's bruised lips, possessive. His voice is a rough growl, all low and sexy with a hint of carefully restrained ferocity in it that makes the small of Shang Qinghua’s back tighten up in a very exciting way. 

"Where are your supplies."

Shang Qinghua flaps a hand haphazardly at his five jars of bedside lube, which he'd had the foresight to bring out that morning. Mobei Jun eyes them, and then to Shang Qinghua's vast dismay, crawls off of him to go dig around in his discarded robes. He comes right back before Shang Qinghua can begin to complain, settling comfortably between Shang Qinghua's legs as he proudly adds a sixth jar to the nightstand. 

The new jar is noticeably bigger than its five smaller companions. It's also artfully decorated with incredibly explicit imagery of demons gleefully fucking each other. 

Shang Qinghua's eyes nearly pop right out of his head! Well! That's not very subtle or low-key! Would definitely merit an intense side-eye from the mailman and every neighbor who saw it if it was an online order wrapped in transparent plastic packaging left sitting on the doorstep. Not that that's ever happened to him! Haha! 

Also, where did Mobei Jun get this?! Did some poor demon smut merchant have to suffer a terrifying visit from the monarch of the northern lands, asking to buy lube for undisclosed but definitely NSFW reasons? Are they still alive? Did his king leave any witnesses? Is Shang Qinghua going to have to make reparations to some grieving demonic family whose only sin was selling ostentatious jars of lube to help Mobei Jun save his life? 

"My king?" he asks faintly. 

Mobei Jun smiles. Smirks, more like. "A gift from this king's instructors. Shall we put it to the test?"

Oh. Of course he got it at the brothel, on his educational weekend sex retreat. Probably as a promotional gift or something - buy one weekend sex retreat, get a size large jar of demon orgy lube free! Also, instructors? Plural?! The thing that Shang Qinghua is feeling is not jealousy. It's not

He nods and covers his eyes with the back of his wrist, blushing fit to burst as Mobei Jun reaches over him for the jar. 

The demon orgy lube makes a loud pop as the lid comes off. Shang Qinghua is too embarrassed to look, but he can hear Mobei Jun working the slippery oil over his fingers. He thinks he might combust just from listening to the slick sounds it's making. Is this how Mobei Jun felt when Shang Qinghua had to do this? If it is, he apologizes for drawing it out, he really does! He doesn't miss the irony in how he was the one begging for more, but now that it's happening, he's all freaked out over it. The anticipation is setting his teeth on edge, and his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest. He's nervous! He's so nervous he wants to scream! 

He jumps, startled, when Mobei Jun touches his leg, one powerful hand coming to rest heavily on the inside of Shang Qinghua's knee, easing him open. Mobei Jun's hands easily span the entire width of his thigh. He can feel the shape of his king's fingers and broad palm where they press into him, the curve of his thumb tucked under the bend of one knee. Anxiety swells in Shang Qinghua's chest like an incoming tide and he tries to breathe through it, trembling and gulping down shaking breaths as he fights the urge to clap his legs shut. 

Mobei Jun pauses. "Shang Qinghua," he says. 

"Y-yes?"

The hand on his knee squeezes lightly. "Are you well." 

"Well! I'm well!"

Mobei Jun doesn't move until Shang Qinghua peeks out hesitantly at him. 

"If it's too much, then say so."

"It's not too much! I'm. I'm just embarrassed."

"Do not be embarrassed." Shang Qinghua gasps sharply as Mobei Jun curls a slick hand around his dick, giving it a slow, encouraging stroke. "This king has not even begun. Save your embarrassment for after."

Shang Qinghua laughs shakily, letting his head fall back, trying to relax. Mobei Jun keeps stroking him, a short, brisk rhythm that makes him groan and push his hips up for more. Mobei Jun calmly takes him by the hip and presses him into the bed so he can't move, the steady motion of his hand continuing unbroken. Shang Qinghua rolls his hips up nonetheless and whines helplessly. 

"My king!" he cries, feeling very pitiful. 

"Mm," Mobei Jun agrees. "Are you ready?" He lets go of Shang Qinghua's dick to slide his hand down, palming the inside of Shang Qinghua's thigh, working his way lower with each slow pass of his fingers. Shang Qinghua groans and spreads his legs a little wider. My king, if you're going to do it, just do it! The anticipation is going to kill this old man!! 

Mobei Jun snorts softly and Shang Qinghua realizes he probably said part of that out loud. He's serious though! And while you're at it, please be careful with this servant's ass, my king! Sure, cultivation exists, but it wasn't meant for healing from being clawed open like an unfortunate cat toy! 

A sudden realization strikes him on the heels of that thought. 

"My king, you - did you file your nails down?"

Mobei Jun gives him a look like he's being a little dumb. "If I didn't, it would hurt you."

"Oh, wow. Uh, my king, this servant truly appreciates - "

"Yes," Mobei Jun says imperiously. "You will." He promptly slides his finger in. 

Shang Qinghua makes a garbled sound, throwing his head back. That was fast! That was unexpected! Mobei Jun is truly a man of decisive action! 

Agh, it...feels really weird! He winces, trying to adjust to the feeling, and Mobei Jun stops instantly. 

"Qinghua."

"It's okay!" he says, squirming uncomfortably. 

"Too much?"

Shang Qinghua tries not to laugh incredulously. Too much? Too much?! If one finger is too much for him already, then he's living on borrowed time! Someone hurry and light a row of candles for his ass! Start burning the paper money already, he's a dead man walking! 

"No, my king," he says, his voice wavering as he tries to adjust. "It's just - weird. But it's fine. Uh, you can keep going."

"Mm."

Shang Qinghua bites his lip to forestall the moan he can feel building in his throat as Mobei Jun starts to rock his finger, working him open carefully. It’s uhhhh…….different. It’s a lot different from his own clumsy experimentation. Not as sexy as he thought it'd be, honestly speaking! A solid like...4/10, and about half of those points are from getting to watch his king's face, eyes focused, brow creased in rapt concentration. He's getting used to it though, and slowly, something starts to shift, the steady, repetitive motion sending little molten jolts up his spine, making him restless for more. His eyes flutter shut of their own accord, and when he manages to drag them open again, Mobei Jun is watching him. 

It's making him blush to be looked at so intensely. Mobei Jun studies his face with predatory focus, analyzing every expression for a hint of pain or discomfort as he works his finger in all the way to the knuckle before pulling out to oil up again. Shang Qinghua tries very hard not to make a dirty noise as Mobei Jun slides wetly back inside him, and is completely unsuccessful. Well! He might as well lean into it! He spreads his legs a little wider and hopes he looks very encouraging. 

Mobei Jun obliges, pacing up slightly and yeah, okay, yeah, it's starting to feel - not good yet, but a lot better. He can get into this! He rolls his hips down experimentally and lets out a shocked groan as a snap of unexpected pleasure coils sharply up his spine. 

Mobei Jun's eyes flicker to his mouth, then back down. He licks his lips, heat simmering in his gaze. "Another?" he asks. 

Shang Qinghua shivers all over. His king’s voice is a half-octave lower than normal, and there's this humming frequency to it that bypasses every higher order thought, going directly to his hindbrain and wringing it like a sponge. Goosebumps race across his arms and chest. His nipples and then his cock tighten in a very noticeable and totally unsubtle manner as he clenches, involuntary, around Mobei Jun's finger inside him.

"Yeah," he says faintly, hoping his voice doesn't crack. 

The delicious, dragging slide as Mobei Jun pulls free makes him cry out, a startled little sound that escapes him totally without his permission. Mobei Jun meets his wide eyes and hums, looking pleased. He adds another finger.

Shang Qinghua's mouth starts up without any conscious input from his brain, like a music box powered by ambient horny energy. "Ah, my king, your hands are so big, it's so good, oh my god, my king, it feels good, keep doing that, go a little deeper - " 

Mobei Jun looks surprised, but he obeys with alacrity, working his fingers in deep enough that Shang Qinghua has to suck in a sharp gasp to keep from crying out. The wet sounds that Mobei Jun's fingers make as he works are so dirty. It reminds Shang Qinghua of every single hentai he's ever had the dubious pleasure of watching. He understands now why the heroine is always surrounded by so many sound effects! He's trying very hard not to whimper because he really doesn’t want to contribute to the trope, but noises keep escaping him in thready little huffs as he tries to breathe past the growing pleasure. Mobei Jun's fingers are longer than his own, and thicker too. His own feeble probing could never, not in a million years, compare to being opened up slow and torturously like this by his king. 

He groans, arching up instinctively as Mobei Jun draws out halfway before plunging back in. He can feel his thighs quivering from how he's trying to hold himself open, and he covers his face preemptively to try and hide how he’s turning bright red. 

"Is it good?" Mobei Jun asks conversationally, twisting his fingers as he works them slowly in and out of Shang Qinghua's body. 

My king, are you fishing for compliments?! It's obviously good! It's very, very good! 

"Yeah," Shang Qinghua gasps, his eyes slamming shut, hips jerking to chase the sensation. "Yeah, it's - oh, yeah, please -" He wonders hazily if it'll feel like this later, what the difference will be between Mobei Jun's cock filling him up versus his fingers, and starts to whine, dangerously on edge at just the thought. 

Oh god, he can't finish yet! Not after how quickly he shot off the first time! His airplane shooting towards the sky needs to last a little longer because that first round was a really poor showing! 

He fumbles for Mobei Jun's shoulder and ends up slapping aimlessly at his king's forearm instead. "Ah, slow, my king, slow down - " Mobei Jun slows obediently, and Shang Qinghua groans, shuddering as he tries to chase the lost momentum. Wait, hold on, this was a bad idea, he didn't think this through. 

"Slow enough?"

"Agh," Shang Qinghua manages, wheezing as Mobei Jun circles his free hand around Shang Qinghua's cock and starts to pull lazily in time with the measured movement of his fingers inside. His grip is so tight, and the rhythm he sets is uncompromisingly deliberate. Shang Qinghua arcs into it, heels braced against the bed as he tries to fuck up into Mobei Jun's palm, trying to spur him faster, caught up in the exquisite agony of it. 

"Please a little faster!"

"I thought slow was romantic."

The amount of self-satisfied gloating in Mobei Jun's voice could be weaponized! Shang Qinghua sputters furiously. How dare Mobei Jun use his own words against him!! 

Mobei Jun is smirking, clearly pleased with himself as Shang Qinghua tries (fails) to prop himself up and glare. He opens his mouth, determined to give his king a piece of his mind, but Mobei Jun seizes the opportunity to lean down and kiss him instead, very effectively silencing him. 

This angle is probably awful on his king's wrist... Just as he's thinking that, Mobei Jun lifts Shang Qinghua's leg by the ankle, folding it easily against his chest to get a better position. It also pushes Mobei Jun's fingers further inside, and Shang Qinghua jerks into it with a wild cry, startling them both with how loud he is. Mobei Jun's eyes narrow, satisfied, and he starts to drive his fingers in, deep. 

With the seal broken, Shang Qinghua finds out very quickly that he can't keep his mouth shut to save his life. Sounds spill out of him for every single thing Mobei Jun does, every twist of his king's hand or thrust of his fingers pushing a corresponding cry out of him. He'd bet good money that he's providing premiere voice acting for an entire NC-17 audio drama all on his own! Even knowing that, even hearing himself whining and whimpering, he can't stop. He cries out again and again, shaking and begging as Mobei Jun works him open. He's definitely moving his hips sluttily, trying to grind down on Mobei Jun's fingers and up into his king's hand, but he can't help it, it's so good.  

Mobei Jun starts to growl softly, biting at his neck and shoulders. It should probably scare him, but it just makes him hornier. All the wiring for the things that should scare him and the things that turn him on are irrevocably tangled up in his head like a super fucked up cat's cradle! He can't even jack off if it's too warm outside nowadays! He's not exactly proud of that, but it is what it is! He tosses his head and makes some more shameful sounds, his entire body fizzing with pleasure as Mobei Jun pumps his fingers, grinding slow circles inside him. 

Mobei Jun bumps suddenly against something that makes Shang Qinghua's entire spine light up like a Christmas tree. He throws his head back and screams , his legs seizing.

G-spot, he thinks dizzily. Then he can't think at all, because Mobei Jun makes a pleased sound and starts dragging his fingers over that spot again and again, merciless. 

Shang Qinghua starts to sob, rapidly overstimulating. It's so good, but it's so much, too good, too fast - 

Mobei Jun slows down right as Shang Qinghua is about to boil over, pulling his clever fingers back and holding Shang Qinghua away from the edge. He doesn't start moving again until Shang Qinghua is coherent enough to scrape together the word "please," begging uselessly and repeating it over and over, his hips pumping urgently to try and regain the lost rhythm. 

"Not yet," Mobei Jun says, sounding terribly smug as he slides his fingers back in, adding a third. 

"Why not yet?!" Shang Qinghua wails, rocking down onto his king's hand in greedy, insistent movements, trying to coax him deeper. Instead of answering, Mobei Jun leans down. His mouth surrounds Shang Qinghua's cock and he sucks, tight, his tongue curling wetly around the head of Shang Qinghua's erection. 

Shang Qinghua screams like he's being brutally murdered! That's fine! That's okay! What's another mortifying sound on top of everything that's already come out of his mouth! 

Mobei Jun pulls off, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. "You want this?" he asks, palming Shang Qinghua to prevent him from moving. 

Shang Qinghua wants it so bad he could cry! He has begged for far less! It's a piece of cake for him to toss in a little extra supplication when his orgasm is on the line!

"Please!" he cries, squirming wretchedly in Mobei Jun's firm grip. "Please, my king, please! Yes, yes, I want it, please, it's so good, I'll do anything, anything, just please don't stop, I'll really do anything you want, I'll scream and beg and plead and cry and -"

Mobei Jun huffs, so pleased that his eyes curve up slightly. He leans down and licks Shang Qinghua back into his mouth, swallowing greedily around him, his tongue dragging a delicious line of pressure up along the underside of Shang Qinghua's dick. This time he rolls his fingers deep inside Shang Qinghua's body in accompaniment, grinding slowly into that spot inside that has Shang Qinghua turning into a quivering pile of jelly. 

Shang Qinghua sobs, curling into himself instinctively as he spasms with pleasure. He grabs at Mobei Jun's hair to try and ground himself, clenching automatically around his king's fingers to try and pull him deeper. Mobei Jun seems to really like that, because he speeds up until Shang Qinghua is mindless, speechless, completely swept up in overwhelming sensation. His brain really is melting, there's nothing in it except pleasure, trapped between Mobei Jun's mouth, his hands, his body, being taken apart so well. He just came like ten minutes ago but he can't last much longer like this, he can't, he really can't, he - 

Shang Qinghua comes with a wail, arching and throwing his head and chest back like a busty maiden, his entire body snapping into release. He didn't know that it was possible to come so hard, and it just keeps on going, pleasure pulsing out in intense, shocking waves from somewhere deep inside, where his king's fingers press indulgently into him. He thinks he cries. He thinks he astral projects out of his body. He definitely blanks out for a bit, swept along on a cool, enveloping tide.

He comes back to himself very slowly, panting like a dog and making winded little whimpering sounds with each exhale. He feels dazed and slightly scorched, his nerves raw and oversensitive, still jangling with residual aftershocks of pleasure. Mobei Jun is wiping his mouth with the back of one hand and watching him again with that soft half-lidded gaze, smug contentment radiating from him in palpable waves. 

Shang Qinghua swallows and tries to remember how to be human again. "Holy shit, my king," he says feebly, flopping a hand out to rest it daringly against Mobei Jun's chest. His voice comes out hoarse and his throat is a little sore, like he'd been shouting, or screaming.   

"It was good?" Mobei Jun asks, preening slightly, the corner of his mouth curving up all smuglike. Obviously fishing for compliments! Still...it's good to indulge this spoiled master once in a while. This is one of Mobei Jun's charm points, after all! 

Shang Qinghua nods, patting his king's oversized pec fondly, feeling deep-fried and slightly uncoordinated. "My king, are you sure this is the first time you've done this?"

Mobei Jun scowls, offended. "Of course." 

"My king is the most talented. Unparalleled. A true prodigy. This servant lies in awe of your skills, my king. Also, if you don't put it in me soon I think I'm going to fall asleep."

Ah. Uh. He hadn't meant to say that last part out loud. Where is his inhibition? Oh right, it's gone, burned away by an orgasm so powerful that it took all of Shang Qinghua's situational awareness with it. Shang Qinghua waves bye bye to his dignity.  

Mobei Jun snorts softly. His erection is still. Just there. Right there! Why is he spending so much time and attention on blowing Shang Qinghua to pieces and not taking care of himself? It's not fair! Shang Qinghua reaches for his king's enormous dick with all the coordination he can muster. 

"My king," he insists, pulling sloppily at him. 

Mobei Jun lazily slaps his hand away which, okay fair, that probably wasn't very enjoyable for him. He runs his thumb along Shang Qinghua's cheek, brushing away the last of his tears. "Do not fall asleep," he commands as Shang Qinghua yawns hugely. 

Shang Qinghua fails to stifle his slightly hysterical giggle. He's so hopped up on post-orgasm endorphins right now that his actions feel like they have no consequences! So he might as well say what he wants! 

"Even if I'm asleep, my king can still put it in me," he says, encouraging. "This servant will just take a little nap -"

"No," Mobei Jun growls, gripping Shang Qinghua by the waist and pulling him closer. He straddles him and leans down to start kissing him again, mouth hot and demanding. "Stay awake, Qinghua."

Shang Qinghua makes a weak, breathy laugh into Mobei Jun's mouth, doing his best to kiss back. "I dunno if I can stay awake long enough to get it up again, my king."

Mobei Jun snorts softly. "This king will see to that." He bites lightly at Shang Qinghua's lower lip before reaching for the big jar of demon orgy lube. 


Shang Qinghua watches with an excessive amount of fondness as Mobei Jun starts to coat the fingers of his right hand with a generous amount of the thick liquid. His king is so beautiful, his face so concentrated, his gaze clear and intent. Shang Qinghua could spend hours looking at him, admiring the elegant bridge of his nose, the sharp angle of his jawline, the noble shape of his demon mark, his cruel and lordly eyes with their long dark lashes...

Mobei Jun, noticing his attention drifting, clicks his tongue, annoyed. He taps his fingers against Shang Qinghua's cheek, directing his sleepy gaze up. "Watch," he commands, sitting up tall on his knees. 

He starts to lube himself up with no trace of shame. It's incredibly hot watching his king slick himself up, his hand moving unhurriedly along the hard length of his cock, his godly thighs spread wide, his entire body on display astride Shang Qinghua. Mobei Jun is truly a one-man visual feast! A full gourmet experience! An all-you-can-eat buffet!! And Shang Qinghua is starving.

He can't look away. He thinks he's drooling, but he can't manage to pick his jaw up off the floor long enough to stop. His mouth floods wetly in shameful anticipation and he distinctly feels a drop of sweat trail down his neck as Mobei Jun palms himself showily, working his hand methodically over the head of his cock. 

Hot! It's so hot!! All of Shang Qinghua's previous sleepiness has been blasted into orbit by the sheer narrative power of so much concentrated sex appeal!

"Is Qinghua enjoying what he sees?" Mobei Jun's eyes are hazy and half-lidded. He's watching Shang Qinghua too, his gaze heavy and wanting. 

Shang Qinghua shuts his mouth with a snap and nods very quickly. He starts running his hands along the powerful line of Mobei Jun's spread thighs up to his waist, encouraging, reverent. Mobei Jun's gaze gets heavier and he starts to growl, a low vibrato hovering at a frequency so low that it's barely audible but rumbles through Shang Qinghua's bones. Shang Qinghua feels his dick give a tired, interested twitch and he covers his face, wildly embarrassed. 小 Qinghua, please restrain yourself! Allow this old man to retain some dignity! 

Mobei Jun knocks his hand aside. "Watch," he says again, pupils slitted. He drags his hand slowly along the heavy length of his erection, twisting his wrist as he goes. It must feel really good, because his mouth falls open, his eyelashes fluttering as he tries to keep his eyes open. His hips thrust forward jerkily into his own hand, like he can't help himself. God, that's just, unbelievably fucking hot. Shang Qinghua's sweaty hands curl into fists on Mobei Jun's thighs. It's really a struggle not to reach out and touch his king right now! 

"As if this servant could look away," he mumbles weakly, red-faced. 

Mobei Jun makes direct eye contact with him. His pupils dilate visibly and he starts to pant a little, his gaze going hungry and slightly off center as he speeds up. The sheer lust in his expression has goosebumps shivering to life across Shang Qinghua's arms, his mouth going very dry. His dick twitches again, now fully interested in the proceedings. Mobei Jun practically purrs with satisfaction, pulling a little faster, his eyes drifting shut, head tipping back to show the graceful, unguarded line of his throat. Oh god, he's doing this on purpose, isn't he?  

Shang Qinghua wants to touch him so badly. He wants to hear Mobei Jun moan raggedly with Shang Qinghua's hands wrapped around his dick. The thought of Mobei Jun getting off all over his chest and stomach is suddenly too much to handle. Shang Qinghua reaches out, his horny instincts overriding all thoughts of self preservation!

Mobei Jun nonchalantly smacks his eager fingers away, the rhythmic motion of his hand not ceasing for a second. "Watch," he orders, voice steely. His left hand comes to rest heavily on the center of Shang Qinghua's chest, pressing him back down. 

"My king," Shang Qinghua says plaintively, squeezing at Mobei Jun's golden thighs. "My king, my king, ah, this isn't fair, you can't just make me watch and not let me contribute? This servant has hands for a reason! My king, please let me touch you!"

A small smile quirks the corner of Mobei Jun's mouth upward. "Be still, Shang Qinghua. This king is the one assisting you today."

Shang Qinghua flops bitterly back against the cushions, denied and feeling very unfairly dismissed. "My king, it seems like the only person you're assisting right now is yourself!" he blurts out, before clapping his hand over his mouth, wide-eyed with horror. Oh shit! He really needs to get his brain-to-mouth filter working again!

The steady movement of Mobei Jun's hand on his dick stops. "Is that so," he asks silkily. 

"Kidding!" Shang Qinghua shouts, hastily patting Mobei Jun's leg to placate him. "This - this humble servant was simply kidding - mmph - !"

Mobei Jun kisses him, fierce, ruthless, dragging Shang Qinghua down the bed towards him. "Allow this king to correct that then," he growls, shoving Shang Qinghua's legs apart, pushing them up to get a good angle. Shang Qinghua yelps, the sound quickly melting into a moan as Mobei Jun wraps a hand around his cock, pumping him back to hardness. He whimpers into Mobei Jun's mouth, squirming as his king works two fingers back inside, quickly moving up to three. 

Oh, he's serious this time, his long fingers flexing deep inside Shang Qinghua's body to make room for that terrifying heavenly pillar of his. Shang Qinghua moans, unable to do anything but lick into Mobei Jun's mouth and spread his legs as his king's fingers work him wide open. His head is tilted back like an offering as they kiss, his hands moving aimlessly over Mobei Jun's chest and shoulders. Seized by sudden inspiration, he reaches up and wraps his arms around Mobei Jun's neck to hold him close, as possessive as a lover.

Is this wildly presumptuous? Yes. Is Mobei Jun stopping him? No. So... so he's just going to keep on doing it! 

The corded muscles of Mobei Jun's neck and shoulders bunch and relax under his hands. He allows Shang Qinghua to touch him, to squeeze at his neck and yank his hair and dig his nails into the skin of his back, submitting willingly, tamed. Shang Qinghua's heart threatens to beat out of his chest at this blasphemous thought, and he has to break the kiss to gasp, shuddering at his own daring. 

Mobei Jun takes the opportunity to slide out before easing back inside him with four slippery fingers. The girth of Mobei Jun's bunched fingers is - it's a lot, but it's manageable. Shang Qinghua thinks he can take more. He knows he can take more. He's just about to say so when Mobei Jun brushes up against something white-hot brilliant inside him, making his entire body jolt. Whatever Shang Qinghua was about to say melts into an incredibly obscene sound that oozes all slow and yearning out of him like a string of warm honey. Mobei Jun practically purrs with satisfaction, curling his tongue around Shang Qinghua's like he's trying to swallow his moan, but he doesn't linger, continuing to work Shang Qinghua open with single-minded diligence. His fingers make obscene, wet schlorping sounds as he works them in and out, pushing deeper with every thrust. 

How is Mobei Jun so good at this? He's so good at kissing, his mouth pursed and sweet one moment, open and hungry the next, claiming every one of Shang Qinghua's breathless sounds with complete confidence. He's so good at touching, his big hands wringing pleasure out of Shang Qinghua everywhere they touch, every way they touch. It turns his brain to mush, melts him down into warm golden light, tenderly refined until only pleasure remains. 

Shang Qinghua tries to clamp his legs around Mobei Jun's arm and trap him and his godly fingers as deep inside as possible. It doesn't work too well because Mobei Jun has him sort of folded up like a taco shell, his legs pushed up against his own chest. He still tries his best, digging his dangling ankles into Mobei Jun's broad back. Mobei Jun responds by kissing him ferociously and plunging his fingers in like he's trying to mine Shang Qinghua's ass for hidden treasure!

My king, please! Do you have a permit for this excavation?! There are no power-ups to be found here no matter how deep you dig! 

He must make a protesting sound, because Mobei Jun pauses for a second before reluctantly extracting his fingers. Shang Qinghua cries out, a distraught, hitching little noise, clenching tightly around him as he slides free, trying to hold him in.

Don't go, my king! That's not what this servant meant! Come back! You can keep digging if you want!!

He clutches at Mobei Jun's shoulders, slapping him feebly and grinding his hips up desperately, making incoherent little wails as he tries to unliquify his brain and get it back into working order to convey what he wants. It's difficult. He feels so cavernous, aching, empty

Mobei Jun eyes him dubiously, his movements stilling as he graciously allows himself to be lightly pummeled. 

"Qinghua."

Shang Qinghua freezes. He takes stock of himself, all scrounched up like an accordion, assaulting Mobei Jun's shoulders with wordless animal sounds while demon orgy lube oozes out of him in a lukewarm snail trail. He opens his mouth, shuts it. He covers his face with his arms as he feels himself turn bright red all the way down to his neck. 

What the hell is he doing?! This isn't sexy at all! What if Mobei Jun is weirded out? What if he wants to stop?! Get ahold of yourself, Shang Qinghua! This isn't the Discovery Channel Safari Special! You're not some waifu who loses all available IQ and devolves into ah-ah-ah just because of some extremely good sex!

"Shang Qinghua," Mobei Jun says. His hand comes to rest on Shang Qinghua's heaving chest, stroking lightly. "Should this king stop?" 

!!! 

Fuck!!!!! It really was too unsexy for Mobei Jun to bear! Desperation has never been a great look on him! 

"No!!!" Shang Qinghua shouts, grabbing at Mobei Jun, panicked. Mobei Jun's fingers contract, startled, and Shang Qinghua guiltily lowers the volume. "I mean um, no, my king, I don't want to stop! Let's please uhhh, not stop? Haha!" He clutches pleadingly at Mobei Jun's arms. 

"You seem…" Mobei Jun pauses diplomatically. "Distressed," he finally concludes. 

"I'm not! I'm not! It's fine, my king, I'm totally fine, I'm - hhhaha, I'm just embarrassed!"

Mobei Jun shakes his head disapprovingly. "There is nothing to be ashamed of." He leans up and catches Shang Qinghua's mouth in his before Shang Qinghua has a chance to parse that. He kisses slowly, almost hesitant, his hand moving along Shang Qinghua's chest in soothing motions. "Say something if it's too much," he mutters, tweaking Shang Qinghua's nipple vengefully, sounding vaguely peeved. 

"It's good, it's good, it's fine, it's not too much!" Shang Qinghua says hastily, looping his heavy arms back around Mobei Jun's neck to reel him in again. Mobei Jun still doesn't say anything to stop him. In fact, he makes an approving rumble into Shang Qinghua's mouth and allows it, pressing close to nose at Shang Qinghua's jaw. So what if this intimacy is fake! Beggars can't be choosers! He'll take what he can get! 

He tugs at Mobei Jun's arm, trying to direct him back to what he was doing before. Can we get back to the main course, my king? Preferably before you change your mind? 

Mobei Jun makes a considering noise. He lets Shang Qinghua drag his wrist down, groping nicely along Shang Qinghua's body down to his inner thigh. Then, he…takes his hand away? No, my king! You were doing so well! 

He's immediately mollified as Mobei Jun moves to straddle him instead, shifting so that he can rock against Shang Qinghua, letting their cocks drag together with each thrust, and oh, that's…oh. Shang Qinghua's head falls back and he groans, low and messy. Mobei Jun is all oiled up from getting ready to put it in, and the slick drag of skin on skin is heavenly. Mobei Jun adds his hand, holding them together easily, and Shang Qinghua moans, guttural, his eyes rolling back, his entire body arching into it. "Oh, god, oh fuck, that's good," he gasps. 

"Mm," Mobei Jun agrees. He starts to pump them slowly, his hips moving in short counterthrusts so they slide together wetly with each movement.

Okay! Not exactly what he had in mind, but this is fine! More than fine, actually! 

"Please," Shang Qinghua gasps, scrabbling at the back of Mobei Jun's neck to urge him on. Mobei Jun's hand tightens around them, pacing up until Shang Qinghua is arcing up into it, keening softly and rolling his hips up for more. Mobei Jun hums, satisfied, his eyes heavy and half-lidded as he studies Shang Qinghua's blissful face. He dips his head and Shang Qinghua's mouth falls open for him in anticipation as he sways up towards Mobei Jun to meet his king's frost-cool kiss. seeking it as a frostflower seeks the fresh-falling snow. The kiss is so deep, ferocious and tender at the same time, holding a bite to it like frostburn, leaving his lips numb and trembling.

It's good, it's so fucking good. Mobei Jun's hand is so firm around them, holding them together so tightly. The heavy length of his erection drags deliciously against Shang Qinghua's own with each sinuous motion he makes. Anticipatory heat pools slow and heavy between Shang Qinghua's hips, setting his thighs trembling, sending delicious flickers of pleasure coiling up his spine.

There's only one problem. 

So the thing is, Shang Qinghua really, really doesn't want to stop, but if they keep on going like this, he's gonna come again, and no joke, he's actually going to fall asleep if that happens! Maybe it'd be a bonus to be asleep when Mobei Jun puts it in, but he doesn't think his king will let him get away with that. Feeling extremely regretful and slightly cheated, he slaps reluctantly at Mobei Jun's shoulders to catch his attention. 

"My king, wait, wait, I want - I'm ready, I'm ready, my king, you can put it in - " 

Mobei Jun stills, his hand still curled tightly around them. Shang Qinghua whines at the sudden loss of action. “My king,” he pleads, rocking helplessly up into him. “My king, just do it already!” 

"You're sure?"

"Yes, my king, please, this servant is ready."

Mobei Jun stares at him intently in slightly worrisome silence. Why isn't he putting it in?! 

"Qinghua. You will voice your discomfort if it becomes too much. Do you understand?" His voice leaves no room for compromise. This is an order, not a request. Shamefully, Shang Qinghua gets a little harder. He nods hastily, flushing. Mobei Jun pinches his cheek, waiting.  

"Yes! Yes, I will! I'll say stop! I'll shout and scream and hit! Don't think I won't!"

Mobei Jun actually smiles at that, amused. "Good," he says approvingly, sitting back and wiping his hand clean with Shang Qinghua's discarded sleeping robe. 

Shang Qinghua takes the moment to catch his breath. Now that it’s actually happening, he feels a little thread of anxiety curling to life in his belly. He tries not to look at Mobei Jun’s erection, which suddenly looks about three times larger than before. Really though, how is it all going to fit…? He shakes his head, pushing away the apprehension. It’s fine! Don’t worry! He’s definitely still extremely into it! 

He sucks in a startled breath as Mobei Jun sits up, looming as he angles Shang Qinghua easily into position, settling him on top of a stack of cushions, his big hands curled around the backs of Shang Qinghua's knees to hold him open.

He starts to tremble a little, equal parts anticipation and nerves as Mobei Jun looks at him from between his legs. It's actually real now, it's really gonna happen. He can feel the waiting pressure of his king's dick resting against his ass, lined up and ready to pop his poor chrysanthemum like a balloon. 小 Qinghua gives an eager twitch at the thought and he flushes, covering his face. Mobei Jun is watching!! Give a man a little plausible deniability here! 

Mobei Jun tugs his obscuring hand away. "Qinghua," he says quietly, watching Shang Qinghua's face. Waiting on his permission.  

Shang Qinghua nods quickly. "Yes, my king," he whispers. His hips roll once, seeking. Mobei Jun leans down and cradles his face for a moment before kissing him. Slowly, he starts to push in. 

Even though he was expecting it, Shang Qinghua still makes a...sound. A weird sound. Loud. He can't help it! It's big! It's so big!! It's really fucking big!!!

Mobei Jun stops, and Shang Qinghua pants raggedly into his mouth, trembling. "It's fine," he manages breathlessly, trying to laugh. He's not scared! It's fine! 

Mobei Jun runs a hand along his chest, soothing, repetitive. He doesn't move further, his cool lips resting lightly against Shang Qinghua's mouth. "Be calm," he says. "Are you ready?"

Shang Qinghua takes a deep breath and tries to relax. He nods, and Mobei Jun kisses him again. All this kissing is really nice, actually. Shang Qinghua tries to let himself sink into it, closing his eyes, letting his king guide his mouth. He still whimpers as Mobei Jun starts to move again.

Who's empty?! Who's cavernous?! What was he thinking earlier?! It won't fit! There's just no way it can fit! 

Mobei Jun's hand slides into his own, linking their fingers together. Shang Qinghua grasps him tightly, grateful beyond words to have something to hang onto to ground himself. He doesn't need to worry about breaking his king's fingers with his pitiful grip strength, so maybe he holds on as tight as he can and squeezes his king's hand like it's a chilly stress ball. He's under a lot of stress right now, okay?!

Everything in him is attuned to the way Mobei Jun feels, the thickness of him, the intensity of the stretch around him. He's so big. Shang Qinghua can barely breathe through it, gasping unevenly against Mobei Jun's mouth and dimly aware that he's shaking like a leaf. All he can do is clutch weakly at Mobei Jun and make embarrassing noises, completely overcome. 

Mobei Jun moves so slowly, giving him time to adjust. He's starting to pant, little growls escaping him. His hips move in tiny motions, pushing deeper a millimeter at a time, slow, so slow. He's watching Shang Qinghua's face intently now. 

"Qinghua," he says, his voice rough. 

Shang Qinghua nods jerkily to prompt Mobei Jun to keep going, his gasping breaths going ragged and shallow. His legs are already spread as wide as they can go and it still doesn't feel like it's enough! How big is his king?! Is there more? He's still going?! 

Endure! Endure, Shang Qinghua!! Your life is at stake here! 

After what seems like an interminable amount of time, Mobei Jun finally grunts, settling flush against him. God, finally! 

"Are you in?" Shang Qinghua gasps. 

"Yes."

"You're supposed to say 'I'm in."

"I'm in."

Shang Qinghua laughs helplessly. Overwhelmed tears trickle down his face as he breathes, unsteady, trembling with laughter and strain. He can feel Mobei Jun shaking with the effort it takes to stay still inside him, and the thought that his king could just decide to start going at it like he's at a rodeo drives a terrible, undeniable little whimper of fear out of him. He'll break in half if that happens! He'll die! He really will! 

Mobei Jun lets his face loll against Shang Qinghua's shoulder, panting heavily. "Qinghua," he says, slurred and wavering. 

"Please wait, my king." His voice comes out all thin and forced, wobbling tremulously like a sob. How embarrassing…

Mobei Jun seems to pull himself together abruptly. He cups Shang Qinghua's face carefully, brushing away the tear tracks. A visible crease forms between his brows and tension tightens the corners of his eyes and mouth. He looks so angry! No, not angry. He looks...worried.  

"Is it too much."

Is it too much?! What kind of question is that?! Of course it's too much!!

"No, no, just, just give me a second." Shang Qinghua breathes in shakily, trying his best to relax, concentrating on the measured strength of his king's fingers curled around his hand and the way Mobei Jun mouths softly at him, like he's afraid that if he kisses Shang Qinghua too hard right now, he'll shatter him like a poorly made porcelain vase. Shang Qinghua sort of resents that! This servant took your daily beatings for years on end, my king! Obviously this master is made out of the indestructible plastic used in baby toys! 

Still, the delicate handling is uh, greatly appreciated. Maybe, just maybe, he was feeling slightly overwhelmed, just for a few seconds. No big deal! He's calm now. Totally calm. He just needs a little more time to uh, do some breathing exercises before they continue, because it's.......big. Mobei Jun's heaven-splitting pillar is really fucking big, there's no getting around that. But hey! The worst part is over already. It's in! Now he just has to hold out til the end. Endure, Shang Qinghua! You've got this! He takes a deep breath and bears down experimentally, determined to make the best of things! 

Mobei Jun makes a broken sound against his mouth, eyes slamming shut as he groans Shang Qinghua's name. His hand spasms around Shang Qinghua's fingers, his entire body shuddering with the strain of holding himself motionless. He bites at Shang Qinghua's shoulder before visibly stopping himself. "Tight," he snarls, his voice hoarse. "It's good."

Shang Qinghua bears down again to make him groan, watching the raw desire move across his king's face. Oh, that's a good look on him. Well, any look is a good on his king's cold and imperious face, but that specific look of forcefully controlled desperation is his favorite one yet! He did that. And he can do it again! 

He does it again. Mobei Jun moans very nicely, his entire core flexing in an incredibly sexy manner as he fights to stay still. He bares his fangs, unable to do anything but bear it, shaking. Ha! Take that, my king! See how it feels! How about you endure for once! 

Mobei Jun meets his gaze and growls softly, his eyes narrowing. Shang Qinghua wipes off whatever self-satisfied expression was on his face, hurriedly replacing it with one of very appropriate respect and admiration. Mobei Jun is holding back for his sake here! Why is he going out of his way to poke this sleeping dragon? If he pokes too hard, he's the one who's gonna get skewered!! 

Okay, no joke though, it...sort of makes him feel good, that he could put that expression on Mobei Jun's face. He can make Mobei Jun feel good too. His king is really going above and beyond for him here! The least he can do is take Mobei Jun's monster cock without complaining and make it decent for both of them.

"Good," he murmurs, mustering up his resolve and squeezing Mobei Jun's hand, then his cock, making him groan. "It's good for me too, my king."

"Qinghua," Mobei Jun says again, teeth gritted. His eyes slit open, hazy, pupils dilated dark. He's practically pleading at this point! 

"You can move, my king."

Mobei Jun snarls and snaps his hips forward eagerly. The movement immediately punches out a long, whimpering moan from somewhere deep in Shang Qinghua's chest. The worry mark between Mobei Jun's brows deepens and he makes a questioning sound.

Shang Qinghua's voice is absolutely not all wispy and breathy as he gasps "It's fine, it's fine! Keep going, my king." 

Mobei Jun grunts and starts to move, rolling his hips in small circles; deep, slow grinding like he's trying to get as much contact inside as possible. Even that is enough to make Shang Qinghua go lightheaded, halfway to overwhelmed. 

"My king," he gasps, feeling like the air has been knocked clean out of him. Okay so he's sort of relieved that Mobei Jun started off slowly because he's not sure he could have handled much more than this! He can feel every single inch of Mobei Jun's cock buried inside him. Every movement sends sparks of sensation skittering through him that border on unpleasant. Even this slow, dirty grinding feels like it's sending him into shock. 

Mobei Jun mouths at him, sloppy, distracted. It must be excruciating for him to move so slowly, to pace himself to Shang Qinghua's comfort level, but he doesn't attempt to go any faster, dutifully watching Shang Qinghua's face, studying his expression for pain or distress. His eyes keep fluttering closed, and he has to drag them open every few seconds, blinking heavily as if dazed, his pupils dilating slowly as he refocuses on Shang Qinghua's face. 

He looks...wrecked. He looks as wrecked as Shang Qinghua feels. Somehow, that actually gives Shang Qinghua the strength to pull together the scattered shreds of his composure! 

"My king," he mumbles, patting Mobei Jun's perfect chest in a reassuring and slightly proprietary manner. "It's fine. It's okay." 

Mobei Jun swallows tensely. Shang Qinghua watches it travel down his throat and is seized by the urge to follow it. He reaches up and cups his hand against the soft underside of his king's throat, resting his fingers lightly against the fast-beating pulse. Mobei Jun goes very still, the small movements of his hips coming to an abrupt stop. His eyes widen perceptibly, the pupils contracting to sudden slits. His Adam's apple bobs lightly against the palm of Shang Qinghua's hand as he swallows again, thickly.

Presumptuous! Too presumptuous!! Mobei Jun's reaction doesn't seem quite normal! Shang Qinghua lets his hand fall away, already stammering a weak apology, but what can he even say? He has no excuse, he just wanted to touch on his king a little! 

He's unprepared for Mobei Jun to lean down and smash their mouths together, kissing him so urgently that it feels like he might pass out from the sheer intensity! As if that's not enough, Mobei Jun starts to move again, grinding deep in a way that has Shang Qinghua moaning stupidly into his mouth, his brain dissolving into slush. He's vaguely aware that he's being very loud, but he can't bring himself to care when Mobei Jun is kissing him so deeply that it's like he's trying to get a taste of Shang Qinghua's soul.  

My king, if this old man's immortal soul dissipates from your rough treatment, you have to take responsibility, okay? Here lies Shang Qinghua: He died before his time because Mobei Jun kissed him so hard that his soul disintegrated like a teacup dropped from the top of the Pearl Tower! 

Mobei Jun groans into his mouth, not caring one bit about Shang Qinghua's hysterical thoughts. He's dragging his tongue along Shang Qinghua's, swallowing all his muffled sounds with a frankly terrifying level of enthusiasm. Shang Qinghua closes his eyes and lets himself sink into it, digging his nails into Mobei Jun's shoulders, seeking purchase. His king's skin is far too thick to be torn by his frail human hands, but Mobei Jun still hisses with undisguised pleasure, shuddering as Shang Qinghua drags his nails down along the muscular plane of his king's back. 

Mobei Jun starts to pick up the pace, falling into an even rhythm - short, short, long, grinding in deep on the last thrust. He catches Shang Qinghua's clutching hands and tugs them up above his head, holding him down by the wrists. Shang Qinghua gasps, his entire body lighting up as he wriggles helplessly in place, pinned carefully but inexorably down. "My king," he cries in between kisses. "My king, my king, please - "

Every point of contact between them feels like a brand, Mobei Jun's powerful hands encircling both wrists, his mouth consuming him whole, the enormous weight and heft of his cock deep inside Shang Qinghua, moving steadily like the tide. Shang Qinghua feels like he could be a sacrifice on some ritualistic altar right now, his king's hands as binding as any set of manacles, held down, held open, being willingly devoured alive. 

Instead of being slightly weirded out by his newly discovered flair for dramatic cannibalistic imagery, the thought is sexy and exciting! He should definitely run with it and turn this into a oneshot! First-person POV even! Please give this humble author a little more inspiration, my king! 

He attempts to grab Mobei Jun's hands, gripping pleadingly at his king's waist with his thighs for more. Mobei Jun makes an appreciative sound which rumbles very sexily between their joined lips. He helps Shang Qinghua hook both legs around his waist, moving evenly the entire time, shifting his weight downwards to fuck Shang Qinghua into the bed. 

The new angle feels good, any lingering discomfort tipping into pleasure so quickly that Shang Qinghua lets out a startled scream, his entire body arching into it. Mobei Jun stills, his hands tightening around Shang Qinghua's wrists. "Good?" he asks, terse.

"Yeah," Shang Qinghua sobs weakly, his head lolling against his arms. "Yeah, yeah, my king, again, please, it's fine, I won't break - "

Mobei Jun doesn't need to be told twice. He grips Shang Qinghua's wrists to steady him and starts to move for real, his hips snapping forward with enough force that it shakes the bedframe, his pace as rhythmic as a metronome. All Shang Qinghua can do is gasp, sensation inundating him. Every thrust pushes a new, embarrassing noise out of him. He tries to grab at something to ground himself, his hands twisting uselessly in Mobei Jun's grip. Mobei Jun slides his hands up so they're palm to palm, fingers intertwined, letting Shang Qinghua squeeze him, vicelike, white-knuckled. 

Somehow, half out of his mind, kiss-drunk and near-delirious with pleasure, Shang Qinghua still finds the air to babble, smudging disjointed phrases across Mobei Jun's lips, raw sounds and words of encouragement spilling from him like water. It's so much, but it's good, it's good, it's so good. He didn't know anything could feel like this, he doesn't want Mobei Jun to stop, needs him to keep going and going and going and - 

Shang Qinghua cries out, his voice cracking as Mobei Jun bumps up against something that lights him up like a flare from the inside out. Mobei Jun grunts and does it again, adjusting his aim until Shang Qinghua lets out a shout of pleasure, his body jerking up uncontrollably.

Mobei Jun grunts again, satisfied this time, and really, it's incredible how much emotion he can convey through a single syllable. Who says his king is difficult to read! He's so - he's - Shang Qinghua's eyes roll back into his head and his thoughts fracture, dispersing to the four winds as Mobei Jun rocks meaningfully into him. His king's dick is way too big to be hitting the g-spot on every thrust, but Mobei Jun makes sure to grind up against it every time he pushes in and it's so good that it has Shang Qinghua babbling like a maniac and shoving his hips down for more. 

Mobei Jun is so big, it feels like he goes on forever, the long dragging slide when he pulls out, the electrifying friction when he pushes back in making Shang Qinghua's brain stutter and short-circuit every single time. His own body clutches tightly around Mobei Jun's cock, trying to hold him inside, greedy for everything his king has to give him. He feels so open, so debauched, the sound of his high, frantic panting and keening like the death whines of an animal being eaten alive. Please make sure to eat up, my king! Don't leave anything behind. Leftovers go bad in the fridge quicker than you think! 

He squeezes Mobei Jun's hands, encouraging him, mindlessly trying to match him every place they touch. Held down like this, it's so easy to let himself be swept away by his king's irresistible strength. Time and sensation blur, melting together like gold in a crucible, reforming into something warm and radiant. An enormous feeling swells within him like a vast wave, racing inevitably towards the shore. 

Mobei Jun's hand slips between them and he curls his fingers around Shang Qinghua's dick, stroking steadily in time with the movement of his hips. Shang Qinghua sobs, seizing up around the bright shock of pleasure. He can feel his entire body tightening with anticipatory pressure, his spine arcing taut like a bow slowly being drawn. 

"My king!" he sobs, clutching desperately at him. "Ahh, my king, I'm - I can't -"

"Qinghua," Mobei Jun says. He's watching Shang Qinghua's face with intent, covetous eyes, as if he's trying to memorize his expression. Shang Qinghua would be mortified by that if he had any spare brainpower available, but his entire body is boiling over like 200 mentos dropped in a 1-liter Coke bottle, and he doesn't have anything left to spare on modulating whatever ugly sex face he's making. Mobei Jun's hand tightens around Shang Qinghua's dick and he pulls, dragging up, his grip so tight and relentless and so, so perfect -

"Come," he says, commanding. 

Shang Qinghua thinks he screams. His orgasm slams into him with ruthless intensity, stripping him of every single thought as he shakes apart around it, curling inward around the incandescent supernova flare of pleasure as it thunders through him, every piece of him spooling loose in its wake, unraveling at the seams. 

Mobei Jun covers Shang Qinghua's shuddering body with his own, snarling softly into his neck, thrumming with satisfaction. He never stops moving, fucking Shang Qinghua steadily through it, his hips moving in small, circling thrusts like he's trying to imprint the shape of himself inside Shang Qinghua's body. 

 When Shang Qinghua finally comes down, wheezing and shaking and barely coherent, he feels like he's been thoroughly scrambled and then hastily reassembled into something only vaguely resembling a human. Shivery aftershocks still course through him, raw sensation just on the good side of overwhelming. His legs are thrown wide open like the gates of hell but he doesn't think he has the strength to close them, long shudders coursing through his thighs like reverberations after a bell has been rung. 

Mobei Jun is holding him, one arm coiled around Shang Qinghua's waist, the other wrapped around his shoulders. It's…really nice. His tight grip is so comforting, a grounding element in the staticky wake of afterglow. Shang Qinghua can close his eyes and press his face into Mobei Jun's cool shoulder, breathing through the tremors until the tension in his body melts away. 

"My king," he mumbles, when he feels a bit more like a person again, groping at Mobei Jun and feeling pleasantly blurred and kind of crispy around the edges. 

"Qinghua," Mobei Jun replies, his voice slightly strained. He's still buried deep inside Shang Qinghua, his hips moving occasionally in tiny, helpless motions. He still hasn't finished yet. That's not good! His king needs to finish. He needs to finish inside! Shang Qinghua swallows his drool and starts pulling all the scrambled pieces of himself back together. 

"My king, you can keep going," he says hoarsely. He tries to link his noodle arms around Mobei Jun's neck, but can't manage enough strength to keep them up, too tired and overwrought. He circles his hands around Mobei Jun's waist instead, squeezing weakly. "It's fine. You need to finish."

He was sort of kidding earlier when he said Mobei Jun could just keep going while he took a little nap, but at this rate, that's exactly what will end up happening! Curse you, demonic stamina! Curse you and your stupid author too! 

"You're not hurt?" Mobei Jun asks him, shifting back slightly so he can swipe away the mess on Shang Qinghua's belly with his much-abused inner robe. Shang Qinghua makes a face. Those stains are never going to come out, my king...we don't have high-efficiency detergent here! We don't have bleach! Use your own inner robe! 

"Qinghua," Mobei Jun repeats, hovering over him. Why is he so impatient! This master is busy condemning your sins against the laundry! 

"I'm fine, my king, I'm fine. I'm really at your mercy now, my king." He sighs and rubs his sweaty forehead against Mobei Jun's cool neck. He'll probably regret being disrespectful later, but right now he's still feeling slightly brittle and he wants affection! "I can feel your heartbeat inside me like this," he confesses, clenching a little around Mobei Jun's dick. "It feels good."

Mobei Jun makes a sound. He tosses the crumpled robe aside and tugs Shang Qinghua closer, rocking deep into him. Shang Qinghua winces, his entire body still alight with flickering residual sparks of pleasure. 

Mobei Jun stops almost immediately. "It's too much," he says, staring accusingly at Shang Qinghua as if he's cockblocking him on purpose.

"No, no, it's fine, it's good, it's - "

Mobei Jun's eyes narrow dangerously. He pinches the thin skin above Shang Qinghua's hipbone, making him yelp in indignation. Why is he being so mean! 

"Do not lie." Mobei Jun's voice is so full of censure, like Shang Qinghua has personally disappointed him in the worst way possible. Shang Qinghua deflates slightly in the face of Mobei Jun's displeased glare. Why is he being so serious about this? It was just a little white lie! 

"It's - ah, it's just...this one is still a little sensitive - but in a good way!" he blurts hastily, grabbing his king's wrists and snapping his legs closed around Mobei Jun's waist as Mobei Jun makes an extremely alarming attempt at pulling out. "No, my king! Don't go! You have to finish for the cure to work! You have to come before this humble servant falls asleep!"

Mobei Jun snorts. He trails a hand over Shang Qinghua's jaw like a warning. "Say something next time," he orders. 

"I will! Didn't I say I'd hit and shout?" 

The corner of Mobei Jun's mouth curls into a private little smile before he bends down to kiss Shang Qinghua. He starts to move again, slow and steady, and yes, it's very considerate, and yes, Shang Qinghua is still a little oversensitive, but that doesn't mean he's going to break into a million pieces! No need for the kid gloves, my king! This servant can take a little more than this. In fact, he wants more! Because above anything else, he wants to go to sleep!

What? He's exhausted! He's poisoned and weak and all wrung out from three (3) consecutive lifechanging orgasms! He needs some significant alone time to process this, preferably through a series of increasingly dirty dreams! Please, my king, this servant is pleading! This servant is begging you! Feel free to come anytime! In fact, do you need some encouragement? A little bit of spicy pep talk? This servant is willing, if it means he gets to go to bed! 

Shang Qinghua swallows and grips at Mobei Jun's forearms, digging his nails into the muscle and dragging down. "Harder," he murmurs. "Feels good. Give me more, my king. Use me to finish, let me feel you inside me. Take me, my king, make me yours." 

He still has enough awareness left to flush as he realizes what kind of sloppy drivel just came out of his mouth. Yikes! He's written better prose while slamming out a 10k update with a 90 minute deadline, running on two hours of sleep and four cans of high-octane energy drink! Sleepytime brain, you're a fucking traitor! That's your idea of dirty talk?! What a letdown! What a flop! …Unless? 

Mobei Jun's eyes go wide, his mouth falling slack, his pupils dilating into a dark, reflective disc as he stares at Shang Qinghua for one breathless moment. "Yes," he agrees, voice hoarse, before he lunges in to kiss him, hungry, desperate, savage. Shang Qinghua mumbles a few fragmented words of support, head spinning as he's swept up on the forceful tide of that kiss.

Yes! Yes!! Haha, he can't believe that worked! Just keep up the momentum, my king, you'll be done in no time! 

He thinks that maybe it worked a little too well when Mobei Jun grabs him, lifting him by the hips as easily as if he weighs no more than a pillow. The only places where Shang Qinghua is touching the bed are his shoulders and the back of his head, his weight supported wholly in his king's arms. Mobei Jun pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in, hard enough that the whole bed rattles, the frame creaking ominously. Shang Qinghua's eyes roll back as he lets out a garbled scream. Is this what it means to be suffering from success?! 

Encouraged by Shang Qinghua's moaning, Mobei Jun grips him a little more securely, locking an arm under him to hold him in place, his hips moving greedily as he murmurs hissed words in the demon language. Shang Qinghua can feel his entire body wobbling unflatteringly with each one of Mobei Jun's deep thrusts. This immediately reminds him of bad titty jiggle physics and has to stifle a hysterical bout of laughter before it can escape, thinking of how incredibly unsexy he must look right now. No flowery halo for him to prevent the dreaded downward-angle double chin!

Mobei Jun doesn't seem to mind though, going by the strained, slightly constipated look of arousal (?) on his face. His king looks so good like this, bent over him as he works, his biceps looking very big indeed as he effortlessly cradles Shang Qinghua's entire body weight in one arm like he's nothing but a body pillow. Mobei Jun could make anything look good, even bad titty jiggle physics. His pecs could definitely support at least a bit of wobble, right? Ridiculously, his dick gives an interested twitch at this thought. Ha! How optimistic!

Shang Qinghua tightens his legs around Mobei Jun’s waist, doing his best to hold on despite the very strong urge to go limp and play dead. That won’t be of much use here since Mobei Jun will just wait for him to wake up and they’ll have to go another 3+ rounds! He really might die from sheer exertion if that happens! Also, where is Mobei Jun getting all this energy from? Don’t his knees hurt?! 

As if in time with his thoughts, Mobei Jun shifts positions, sitting back and pulling Shang Qinghua up with him. The change in position drags a weak cry out of him as he clings on for dear life, arms shaking with the effort. He feels so floppy, his body weak and threatening to collapse, but Mobei Jun's powerful arm coils tight against his spine, bracing him upright, holding him close with reassuring strength. He shifts underneath Shang Qinghua, adjusting their positions and allowing Shang Qinghua to slump pathetically across his chest, taking the strain off of him. 

Shang Qinghua flushes deeply as Mobei Jun pulls him closer, rocking up into him and snarling softly, rapt. His king’s arms encircle him, holding him tight in what is essentially an embrace. Mobei Jun is basically hugging him and letting Shang Qinghua ride him! What’s with this position?! What’s with this level of intimacy?! It’s weird! It’s too much!! 

It's...oh, it's extremely good, actually. He feels so full like this, gravity working to drop his body down onto every one of Mobei Jun's thrusts. His dick is trapped between them in the best way, rubbing up against Mobei Jun's stomach and sending shocks of pleasure fizzling through him with each movement.  His entire body lights up at the exciting friction of new angles being hit as Mobei Jun moves, deep inside him. It's good, ah, it's so good. He links his rubbery arms around Mobei Jun's broad chest, burying his face into his king's neck as he does his best to grind down, circling his hips, chasing more. Mobei Jun responds beautifully, holding him in place and pounding up eagerly into him, bouncing Shang Qinghua a little in his lap. He sinks his hand into Shang Qinghua's hair, pulling taut, the tension sending sparks of pleasure cascading down Shang Qinghua's spine. 

Shang Qinghua thinks he starts to whimper. It's so much, it's so intense, but it's not bad, he's not scared or hurting. He tries to touch Mobei Jun's face, wanting to stroke his king's flushed cheek and tell him he's doing great, but his arms are too weak to manage it, and the only thing that comes out of his mouth are more embarrassing sounds.

His orgasm catches him by surprise, cresting slow and peaking softly before melting through him in intense, pulsing waves of sensation. All he can do is moan and clench his legs around Mobei Jun's powerful waist as it floods through him, leaving him shaking and unmoored in its wake. Whimpering, he tries to clutch at Mobei Jun to ground himself, but his arms are too weak, his entire body limp and unresponsive and overworked. Mobei Jun, who might be a mind reader, nestles closer to allow Shang Qinghua to hold him, his powerful arms circling tight around Shang Qinghua's waist, holding him back.  

"My king," Shang Qinghua manages, before Mobei Jun kisses him fiercely, almost bruising. He's murmuring into Shang Qinghua's mouth as he continues to move. Shang Qinghua thinks he hears his name in the unfamiliar syllables. "Yeah," he agrees hazily. "Yes, my king. It's good. Please."

Mobei Jun snarls and holds him tighter, possessive. He's panting harshly, moving fast now as he gets closer. He presses his face into Shang Qinghua's neck, whining, his rhythm stuttering, the movement of his hips going all jerky and uncoordinated. He's close. Just a little more, to push him over the edge. 

Hold out until the end, Shang Qinghua! You're no quitter! 

Shang Qinghua dredges up the last of his effort and locks his shaking legs around Mobei Jun's waist. "It's good," he murmurs hoarsely. "It's good, my king, you're doing so good. Can feel you in me, so big, so good - you move like you were made for this, my king." He sighs, resting a trembling hand on the nape of Mobei Jun's neck, scraping lightly with his fingernails. "My king, my king. Mobei. Mobei Jun."

Mobei Jun groans, a wild, guttural sound boiling up from deep in his throat. He buries his face against the crook of Shang Qinghua's neck and comes apart, his hips snapping greedily, his entire body shuddering as he finally finishes, deep inside Shang Qinghua's body. 



Shang Qinghua drifts blissfully, uncaring of how gross he feels, all sweaty and rumpled and stained. Not even the faraway chiming of multiple System notifications can rouse him. That's for future-Qinghua to deal with! 

He thinks he feels Mobei Jun wiping him off, the way you wipe down a tabletop at a restaurant after the customers have left. He fights the urge to giggle. His king? Doing cleanup duty? Too strange! Must be an illusion. A nice illusion. Mobei Jun's hands are careful, his touch light. 

He's well on the way to falling asleep, but Mobei Jun, sadistic and heartless king that he is, starts to shake him, patting at his face and shoulders. Shang Qinghua makes a disgruntled noise and tries to slap him away. His body doesn't even attempt to move and he gives up, deciding to ignore Mobei Jun instead. 

Let a man sleep after going so many rounds, my king! 

Mobei Jun does not let him sleep, and keeps shaking him cruelly until Shang Qinghua whines and drags his eyes open. Mobei Jun's face is very close to his, but Shang Qinghua doesn't even have enough energy left in him to startle.

"Hmmng," he manages. 

"Shang Qinghua. The poison. Is it gone?"

"Huh?" Shang Qinghua squints at him before his brain sluggishly dials back online. Right, the poison. He concentrates, trying to take stock of himself. His achy lower back and achy other unspeakable areas keep distracting him and making him blush. He does not feel like he's been chainsawed in half though, so this is an overall win! 

Vaguely, he realizes that he feels - cleansed for lack of a better word. His heavy limbs feel lighter, his senses sharper, like his clogged meridians are clearing up. Success!! A Remnant of Grace plotline, finally defeated! 

"Uh...yes, my king. I think I'm cured? The numbness and tingling are gone." He flops a hand experimentally. "I still feel pretty weak though. And my spiritual energy feels really low."

Mobei Jun kisses him abruptly, filling him to the brim with qi, leaving Shang Qinghua gasping. "Uh, thank you, my king," he mumbles, slightly giddy, his body sparking with it. 

"Your core?"

Shang Qinghua concentrates. "Still there, I think?"

"You think?!"

"It's there, it's there! Just, it's hard to sense things right now. I'm still sort of deep-fried."

Mobei Jun rumbles threateningly. He calls his head healer into the room. Shang Qinghua is too tired to be embarrassed about being butt ass naked in front of her right now. He drifts back into a pleasant post-multiple-orgasm doze as she examines him, half-asleep and listening with one ear. 

The healer finds his golden core intact, his meridians in bad shape, his spiritual veins shredded like confetti, and concludes that he's not going to drop dead on the spot, foreseeing a monthlong recovery at the least. 

After the assessment, Mobei Jun dismisses her before returning to bed. He rests his hand carefully on Shang Qinghua's abdomen over the dantian, as if he's trying to sense the golden core himself. Shang Qinghua is touched by his king's obvious concern, but too tired to say so. 

You did a great job, my king! Gold star! 10/10! Fucked the poison right out of me, no need to worry anymore! 

In perfect time with his last thought, the cool weight of Mobei Jun's hand on his stomach disappears. 

Oh…right. Now that the uh, treatment has been administered, Mobei Jun will take his leave. His concern extends only so far as ensuring that his servant won't die. That makes something in Shang Qinghua's chest curl up pitifully on itself, and he doesn't know if he can keep it off his face, so he pretends very hard to be asleep. 

Mobei Jun…doesn't leave. He lies down and settles himself more comfortably on the small bed, looping an arm around Shang Qinghua's waist and pulling him close. His cool breath frosts Shang Qinghua's hair as he shifts closer. Shang Qinghua commits himself to the illusion of being deeply asleep, his heart racing. 

Isn't…isn't this cuddling?! His king is cuddling with him? Spooning with him? After sex? After multiple-orgasm sex? This…is the absolute height of indulgence, isn't it? 

Mobei Jun growls quietly, interrupting his dreamy thoughts. His hand tightens suddenly on Shang Qinghua's waist. 

"Shang Qinghua. You will never withhold crucial information about your health from this king again. Never again. Do you understand?" His filed-down claws are still sharp enough to prick dangerously at Shang Qinghua's side. 

Shang Qinghua sweats nervously, his eyes squeezed shut. Sorry, my king! Shang Qinghua is asleep! He can't answer! Leave a message at the next snore! 

Mobei Jun sighs harshly and curls tightly around him, resting his chin on top of Shang Qinghua's head. The menacing hand on Shang Qinghua's waist slides up his spine to squeeze at the nape of his neck before Mobei Jun starts channeling a small stream of spiritual energy into him. 

It's...nice. it's really, really nice. 

The cool weight of Mobei Jun's hand is so comforting, his thumb rubbing small soothing shapes into Shang Qinghua's neck. Being held close like this, pressed against his king's muscular chest...it's every bit as wonderful as Shang Qinghua has ever imagined. 

As much as he wants to enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime moment, he really is completely exhausted. Three? Three and a half? rounds of XXX really takes it out of a guy! He falls asleep only moments later, lulled by the steady rise and fall of Mobei Jun's breathing, the reassuring strength of his king's arm around him.

Chapter Text

Mobei Jun awakens with the awful sensation that he's missing something. 

He's missing something. It's gone, and it won't come back, but he desperately needs for it to return, or else - or else! 

A sudden spike of pain has him hissing and clutching at his side. There's a sluggishly bleeding wound there, and when he pulls his bloody fingers away, a golden flower-shaped dart falls out, dissolving into snow when it hits the ground. 

The mounting urgency gets stronger. A yawning sense of loss and despair threatens to swallow him whole as he stumbles around the room, then outside, desperation driving him to keep searching. He's frantic now, destroying the hallway, flipping furniture, overturning rocks and trees and great clumps of dirt. What is he missing? It's important, come back -! He staggers, reeling backward, and his heel catches on something behind him, tipping him into a fall as the tundra shatters around him into dark-edged shards. 

The emptiness yawns wide, the wind whistling around him, snapping at his hair and robes as he plunges alone into the waiting void. 

"My king!"

Above him suddenly, a familiar voice, a familiar face. Darting after him like a sparrow chasing a condor, blue robes flapping frantically in the wind. 

“My king! Catch!” 

A grasping arm stretching out past the limits of safety to arrest his fall - and then a hand slaps solidly into his own, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight as terminal velocity slows around them. Time hangs suspended as he takes in every detail of that familiar face - eyes huge, face ashen with fear and desperation. 

Everything in him turns toward this man, like magnets aligning to their rightful poles, like a compass needle swinging toward true north. 

Shang Qinghua. 

The relief he feels is overwhelming, threatening to drown him. He returned, he came back, he hasn't left -!

 Mobei Jun surges forward only to be greeted by empty air, the warm body above him dissipating abruptly into particles of snow the moment he grasps it. He barely has time to blink in stupefied disbelief before his fall breaks abruptly, sending him sprawling painfully across rocky, frozen ground. 

"Shang Qinghua!" he shouts, scrabbling upright and looking around wildly. His voice is hoarse, as if he's been shouting for a while. "Shang Qinghua!"

There is no answer. 

Then, a sigh. 

'You absolutely will not be able to find me again…'  

That familiar voice is soft and a little sad, as if this is an inevitability, a fact. 

The despair in his heart grows thick and black. He was just here, the warmth of his tight grip still lingering across Mobei Jun's palm, residual heat haze from an absent sun. Why did he return only to leave again? 

"Come back!" he roars, whirling around, searching the barren landscape. "Don't you dare leave! I'll break your legs if you dare to leave again!" His voice cracks distressingly on the last word. 

Nothing. Only silence. 

He drags himself to his feet and continues to search, heartsore and bitter, trudging through the unfamiliar landscape with the sun rising to his right. Inexplicably between one blink and the next, time and space coalesce around him, narrowing, condensing kaleidoscopic before resolving into familiar halls, slate gray stone and obsidian ice. He finds himself walking down a long stairway, flanked by immense pillars of eternal ice on either side until he finally arrives in a decorated bedroom, silent as a grave, devoid of all life. 

The sleeping chambers of the underground ice fortress, bathed in cold blue light. The still, icy corpse laid upon the bed, arms crossed at the chest, awaiting the transfer of power. 

He knows this. 

The inheritance ceremony. 

There should be someone by his side to witness his ascension, one of the most important events in his life, but he walks forward alone. No matter.

He takes a resolute step towards the body on the dais when a bolt of agony strikes him suddenly from behind, malevolent demonic energy wrenching eagerly through his body, sending him crashing to the stone floor, seizing with pain. His uncle's mocking voice pierces the haze with sudden and brutal clarity.

"My nephew! This Linguang Jun offers his sincere congratulations." 

Mobei Jun is too busy trying to expel the malicious demonic energy within him to do more than snarl, but his eyes flick behind his uncle, instinctively seeking a familiar figure, finding only the empty room. Linguang Jun circles comfortably around him, squatting down just outside his reach. "Are you looking for your pet human? He's gone, I made sure of that," he says amiably, studying his nails. The fingers of his right hand are covered in blood up to the knuckles. 

Mobei Jun snarls openly, trying to sit up past the excruciating pain wringing his guts. Blood starts to trickle in dark streams down his chin as the needles of demonic qi shred him from the inside out. "What did you do?!"  

"Ah?" Linguang Jun says, delighted. "Don't tell me, nephew, you feel bad for your little pet?" He wiggles his bloody fingers, smiling gently. "Don't worry. It was quick."

Mobei Jun doesn't know what expression twists its way across his face, but Linguang Jun laughs, pleased.

"Don't make that sort of face at your uncle! Even if I hadn't hurried things along, you think that cowering dog would have stayed by your side? With your spoiled and terrible attitude, always treating the people around you like trash, he should have left long ago.” He taps his chin, smiling. "Honestly, I did you both a favor! If he'd continued sticking to you like a leech, he would have inevitably met a bad end. That is, if he didn't backstab you first." He shakes his head, mirthful, reaching towards Mobei Jun's heart, his wicked dark nails sharpening to gleaming points. "It's a mark you carry on you, my nephew. You can't escape it. You’ll always have the fate of being sold out and betrayed!"

As if in time with his words, flame blooms to life around Mobei Jun, a wall of riotous heat seeking his life. He flinches away sharply, urging his body to move, but his limbs betray him, leaving him slumped in a ball of agony on the floor as the fire closes in.

Unexpectedly, his uncle's voice peters off into a high-pitched shout of fury and fear. The fire crackles wildly around him, a cacophony of deadly heat and sound. 

Around him? 

He cracks an eye open and there, standing tall amidst the circle of dancing black flames, bloody and battered, but alive.

Shang Qinghua. 

"My king!" he cries, noticing Mobei Jun's gaze on him. He bows down immediately onto one knee in front of Mobei Jun's dazzled eyes. 

Mobei Jun drags himself shakily upright with a snarl. "Shang Qinghua," he creaks out. "You left."  

"What? But I didn't!" he protests, jumping to his feet. "I told you that I'll follow you the rest of my life, my king!" 

"You left!" Mobei Jun presses, spitting out a thick mouthful of blood. "Yet you dare - you dare say those words to me -"

"What wouldn't I dare?!" Shang Qinghua shouts, unexpectedly defiant, stamping one foot petulantly on the ground. "What wouldn't I dare do for you, my king?"

Mobei Jun's heart twitches traitorously in his chest. He unfolds one arm, commanding, expectant, waiting. 

Two heartbeats have never seemed to stretch out like this, a breathless pause that hangs in the still air between them, encroaching on infinity. 

Shang Qinghua's watery smile is as bright as the rising sun. He runs forward, leaping directly into Mobei Jun's waiting arms, his momentum carrying them backwards so that they fall together. 



Mobei Jun jerks awake abruptly, startled. The room is still dark but the skylight above is starting to lighten to a slate grey. The entire night has passed. 

Shang Qinghua sleeps peacefully, curled close in his arms. He clings like a limpet, forehead pressed insolently into Mobei Jun's neck, snoring softly. Mobei Jun stares at his sleeping face before drawing him close, feeling a little wild. 

He'd drawn his own conclusions after the first time they came together. 

Shang Qinghua had offered to dual cultivate with him, but he'd fled the room afterwards, forcing Mobei Jun out of bed to chase him down. Then he had begged to be punished for some form of perceived disrespect, asking Mobei Jun to banish him like some petty criminal! 

Mobei Jun, his skin still electric from Shang Qinghua's touch, his entire body still ringing with well-fucked contentment, had been left in complete bewilderment. He could only conclude that it hadn't been a good experience for Shang Qinghua, if the man had practically wept with shame afterwards. 

It had...stung, that his perception of what happened had been so different. Despite his bruised ego, he hadn't demanded an explanation past the flimsy excuses Shang Qinghua had given, keeping his distance so Shang Qinghua wouldn’t feel the urge to flee in the face of his unhappiness. It was obvious that Shang Qinghua sought to maintain the thin veneer of professionalism between them, despite what had happened. Why else would he backtrack so sharply in the face of Mobei Jun's obvious pleasure?

The opportunity to redeem himself with Shang Qinghua's looming death hanging over them had seemed too cruel for words. It was like some sort of awful joke, to reduce something he had long desired down to a crude act required to save Shang Qinghua's life. The rushed necessity of everything, even though Shang Qinghua had agreed to it, still lingers like a bad taste in his mouth. If he had his way, this would have been a thorough seduction. He would have presented himself as a temptation so overpowering that it would have broken down every one of Shang Qinghua's reservations and left him pleading for the privilege. Instead, he receives two days of frantic instruction on how not to damage Shang Qinghua beyond repair through the simple act of dual cultivating with him. 

Had he misunderstood something about what happened the first time? 

He thinks back to the first time they came together, the sense memory of it seared into his mind, as indelible as a brand of fire. He thinks of Shang Qinghua's overflowing words of praise and pleasure, his constant worried questioning over Mobei Jun’s comfort even as he took him apart so well. Doubtful, he compares these prized memories to their activities from the previous night, turning them over for signs of inconsistency, insincerity, discomfort. 

There are no discrepancies. The things that stand out the most are the shy tenderness of Shang Qinghua’s hands and mouth. His eager, unfeigned pleasure as he came apart again and again under Mobei Jun's hands. His murmured acceptance and pleas for more, even strained to the physical limits of his small body. 

Surely, some of that had been real? 

He studies Shang Qinghua, eyes tracing the gentle curve of his face, the steady rise and fall of his chest, admiring the dark splay of his eyelashes, the soft, gently-bruised shape of his sleeping mouth. Carefully, as if reaching for a porcelain statue that might shatter if touched without care, he rests his palm against Shang Qinghua's warm cheek. 

Shang Qinghua wrinkles his nose and makes a sleepy sound, rubbing his face insistently into the cradle of Mobei Jun's palm before trying to curl into him, seeking closeness. 

The immense wave of feeling this innocuous action stirs in him…

His heart stutters in his chest like a moth's trembling wingbeats. The force of each subsequent, wild heartbeat moves his blood through him like a river, deep with undercurrents of longing. He is helpless in the face of his own tender, undeniable emotions. 

He's refused to admit it to himself for months, years, decades, the differences between them too vast to surmount based on something as fragile as a bout of misplaced sentiment. Meanwhile, the accumulating weight of his feelings has been compacting like winter snowfall, building upon itself layer after layer, year after year, crystallizing into permafrost, enduring, unbreakable. 

Perhaps this is what he has always felt, from that very first meeting when he woke up - furious, disoriented, but alive - in a tiny one-bed inn room with this man holding him close like something precious. 

Maybe it's finally time to put his reluctance aside and embrace the possibility of something new. 

He touches Shang Qinghua's face again, enchanted, squeezing his cheek gently, suffused with an easy, fond indulgence. Shang Qinghua mumbles sleepily in protest and tries to nestle further into him to avoid the pinching hand. His arm curls around Mobei Jun's waist, trying to tug him closer. Anyone else who even thought about putting their hands on his body would have those hands removed for the impertinence. Because it's Shang Qinghua, Mobei Jun dutifully shifts closer, watching as the little crease in Shang Qinghua's brow relaxes, soothed by his presence. A long, satisfied hum rumbles to life deep in his chest, rising through him like a bubble, spilling into the open air. 

He settles down to wait for Shang Qinghua to wake, running a hand along the crown of his head, marveling at how the entirety of that brilliant mind fits so easily into the grip of one palm.

Soft. He's really gone soft. 

Somehow, the thought brings him no shame. Only a simple and comforting warmth. 

---


One shichen passes before Shang Qinghua begins to stir in his arms, waking slowly.

Mobei Jun watches him raptly the entire time, committing the soft sleepiness of his mouth and the flutter of his eyelashes to memory for a thousand years. 

Shang Qinghua rubs his face indulgently against Mobei Jun's shoulder, yawning as he stirs and stretches. A slight furrow forms on his brow as his brain clicks sluggishly back to life, and Mobei Jun watches him blink blearily a few times before realization filters its way through the haze of morning drowsiness. His eyes fly open, and he meets Mobei Jun's soft gaze with open panic. 

"M-m-my king!!"

Mobei Jun grabs him preemptively, right as Shang Qinghua tries to escape from the bed at high velocity. 

"Where are you going?" he asks. "These are your bedchambers."

Shang Qinghua, caught, stammers some more, his eyes flicking about as he confirms that yes, they are in his bedroom and yes, they are in his small bed. Naked. Together. His eyes dart down to where Mobei Jun is holding him in place, up to catch his king's gaze for a split second, before he chooses safety and squeezes his eyes shut again.  

"My king! W-what are you still doing here?!" he cries, curling into himself as he tries to pull the sheets over his head. Mobei Jun tugs them right back down so he can keep looking at Shang Qinghua's face, making him squeak. "My king!" he wails again, turning red. It's very endearing. 

"This king was concerned," he replies. He had felt for himself the steady hum of Shang Qinghua's untouched golden core, and yet… He pulls Shang Qinghua closer, looping an arm around his waist. 

Shang Qinghua wriggles and lets out a burst of nervous, high-pitched laughter. "Aaahahaha! Um! No need to be worried, my king! T-this servant is fine! Totally fine! Fully cured and everything! My king didn't have to uh, spend the night here! My king doesn't have to stay!"

Not stay with him? After everything? Mobei Jun scoffs. "This king will not leave you."

Shang Qinghua's eyes go big, and then very soft. "Oh," he says quietly. Slowly, he relaxes, allowing himself to be held. 

Mobei Jun studies him closely, his grip loosening now that Shang Qinghua isn't attempting to flee. "Are you well, Shang Qinghua?"

"Yes, my king, this servant is fine." Shang Qinghua sounds awed, a little wondering as he meets Mobei Jun's eyes. 

"You are not in pain? 

"Uh…" Shang Qinghua frowns as he takes stock of himself. "I'm fine, my king. Just a little uh...sore, but uh, but that's um, it's fine. Not a problem at all. The opposite of a problem, really. Totally fine! Haha!" He ducks his head, flushing deeply.

Mobei Jun knows the face that Shang Qinghua makes when he's anticipating hurt. He knows the face Shang Qinghua makes when he's in pain (fake) versus the face he makes when he's in pain (real). There's none of that now. Only a growing flush that makes him look very appealing. He reaches out and touches Shang Qinghua's cheek, fascinated. "Your spiritual veins?"

"Um, I feel...maybe a little stronger? Still low on spiritual energy, but - "

Unhesitating, Mobei Jun leans in to kiss him, channeling spiritual energy through the contact. Shang Qinghua gasps into his mouth, startled, but he doesn't pull away. His arms come up, tugging him into an embrace as he kisses back hungrily, his mouth hot and eager. 

These are not the actions of a man who is ashamed. Has he truly been blind this whole time? Mobei Jun's heart sings with contentment, his skin buzzing where they touch. His adoration threatens to spill out of him like a torrent of sound, or light. Growling softly, he rolls them over, trapping Shang Qinghua underneath him to kiss him senseless. 

The kiss grows deep, wet, filthy with promise, until Shang Qinghua is gasping into it, pleading and making little breathless moans of pleasure. He squirms up into the heavy weight of Mobei Jun's body above him, wanting. 

Mobei Jun hums, pleased. The sounds that Shang Qinghua is making go right to his hindbrain, zipping pleasurably down his spine to settle hot between his hips. Simply watching and listening to him yesterday had been nearly as enjoyable as taking him apart. He's already half-hard just from kissing Shang Qinghua, from just the idea of getting to have him again, all to himself. 

But. 

He can't just take and take like this, given proof of Shang Qinghua's dedication over and over and only seeking more. But first, there is something he needs to confirm. He pulls away reluctantly, valiantly resisting the urge to continue kissing Shang Qinghua into the cushions. He rests a hand on Shang Qinghua's chin, directing his gaze up. 

"My king?" he asks, breathless and confused and a very charming shade of pink. Mobei Jun squeezes him gently. 

"Shang Qinghua. Answer honestly. When this king was poisoned, why did you offer to dual cultivate with this Mobei Jun?” 

Shang Qinghua tries to look away, blushing deeply. He can't hide his expressions with Mobei Jun so close to him. "Ah. Um. Well, I...I wasn't lying when I said that I wouldn't be able to bear it if you died, my king. You wouldn't let anyone else help, and there was no other cure! I couldn't just sit by and watch you die! What would this humble servant do if you died, huh?! I'd be kicked out, thrown aside, maybe even roasted or eaten alive!" He looks haunted for a moment, his eyes filled with stark fear. 

Mobei Jun's mood sinks like lead ballast, the weight of his foolish expectations immediately punctured. He has been made a fool by his own great hope. Before he can wrench himself away though, Shang Qinghua reaches out for him. Daringly, he cradles Mobei Jun's face between his warm hands, running a thumb over his king's lower lip. 

"But I…also really wanted to," he murmurs, his eyes soft and dark, fixed longingly on Mobei Jun's mouth. "I wanted to very much, my king. I wanted it to be me. I'm glad it was me. I don't know what I would have done if you had chosen to marry some rando from those stupid binders I made -" He meets Mobei Jun's wide eyes, blanches so quickly that it's a little startling, and snatches his hands back, covering his face and screaming with mortification. "B-but that's not to say that uh, that my king couldn't have found someone else if he wanted?! This humble servant didn't mean to speak so freely! Begging my king's forgiveness!"

Mobei Jun scowls, batting the obscuring hand away to catch Shang Qinghua's face. Someone else? Ridiculous. Even the thought grates at him with its utter wrongness. 

"Who?" he demands, squeezing Shang Qinghua's chin. "Tell me! Who else would this Mobei Jun choose if not you, Shang Qinghua."

Shang Qinghua gulps shallowly, his eyes flickering across Mobei Jun's face. A hectic blush spreads across his cheekbones, crawling down towards his neck and chest. Hesitantly, he brings his hands back up, cupping his trembling fingers over Mobei Jun's knuckles.

"You have me then, my king," he whispers. 

Mobei Jun breathes out sharply. The joy that blooms in his chest is so sharp that it hurts for a second. He leans in, and Shang Qinghua cranes up to meet him. The kiss is warm, deep, a long and lingering tenderness. 

Shang Qinghua looks so stunned as they pull apart to breathe, his eyes big and round, his mouth fallen open into a soft ‘o’. It's a bright, unguarded expression that doesn't often cross his face. To see it now and know that he put it there makes Mobei Jun thrum with satisfaction, a warm light of accomplishment glowing bright in his chest. He wants to be able to do this every day in the future; to watch that look of slow delight and sincere, open happiness spread across Shang Qinghua's face like the rising arctic sun. Unbidden, Shang Qinghua's words from the night before play across his mind. "Take me, make me yours, my king…" 

Very well. The path is clear to him.

"There are matters that this king must take care of," he says, nosing at Shang Qinghua's hair before pulling away reluctantly to sit up, shedding the sheets and bunching them up around Shang Qinghua instead. They've already skipped all the courtship steps and gone right to consummation, but he can still do this. Shang Qinghua deserves the honor. The regard. 

"My king, surely it can wait?" Shang Qinghua asks, wriggling out of the mess of blankets and clutching at him. He presses his forehead against Mobei Jun's bare thigh, blinking up at him in a hopeful and slightly pathetic manner. "Maybe my king could uh, resume what he was doing earlier?" His eyes flicker across Mobei Jun's body before he licks his lips and flushes, looking very appealing indeed.

It would be a blatant lie to say that he isn't tempted. Shang Qinghua is stretched across the bed to reach him, the arc of his body highlighting the lean lines of his chest, the sharp angles of his hipbones sloping down into the blankets. Marks from the night before still span Shang Qinghua's body like dark constellations, occult arrays of pleasure imprinted into a willing surface. They won't fade for weeks, given Shang Qinghua's current inability to call upon his cultivation to heal himself. He swallows thickly, recalling how narrow Shang Qinghua's waist looked when bracketed by his dark-clawed hands. 

He wants. There's no question about that. He wants to press Shang Qinghua into the bed and kiss him silent, to take him apart meticulously until he starts to beg and weep for more. 

But Shang Qinghua is not simply a body to be used for his pleasure. Shang Qinghua will be the partner and consort of a king, and he deserves to be honored, courted and seduced as thoroughly as any highblood demon of his rank would merit. The next time they meet bodily, it will be as equals. It is the least he can do, to show Shang Qinghua how deeply and truly his respect runs. 

"My king?" Shang Qinghua prompts. He's staring openly now, fingers dancing teasingly along Mobei Jun's thigh, his eyes dark and heavy with interest. "I'm really not that sore, I -"

"No." Mobei Jun says. He runs an appreciative hand along Shang Qinghua's chest one last time, thumbing lightly across one nipple and giving him a small pinch before withdrawing begrudgingly. 

Shang Qinghua's face folds into an immediate pout and he takes a deep breath. Mobei Jun tunes out instantly, long familiar with the look on his face that precedes the rambling discourse to come. Sure enough, Shang Qinghua launches into a five-part persuasive speech on exactly why Mobei Jun should take him again, complete with ideas on the best positions for both of them and suggestions for extravagant carnal activities that Mobei Jun hasn't even heard of before. Idly, he makes a note to extract this information from Shang Qinghua at a later date, preferably under sexual duress, but right now he has more important things on his mind.

He turns the traditional courtship steps over in his mind, thoughtful. Shang Qinghua hasn't set any trials for him, has not laid out any demands. They absolutely will not engage in battle, ritual or otherwise. The steps will be out of order, and the customary events and presentations of gifts will have to be modified, as they already share the same household. 

No matter. He'll set tasks himself and rise to meet his own standards. No one will be able to accuse him of being lacking after he is finished, and if anyone points fingers at Shang Qinghua's qualifications, well. He will show them exactly what it means to rouse the anger of the demon king of the northern wastes.

He looks at Shang Qinghua, studying the recovering floppiness of his limbs as he gestures emphatically, his mouth still moving indignantly. The weak fizzle of his drained spiritual energy barely registers at the edge of Mobei Jun's senses even as he strains to sense it. He won't be safe in the northern palace like this. 

Once he makes his claim public, his enemies will start to move against him. Some of those enemies will come from within the ranks of his own family. Their ambitions ruined, their influence thrown aside in favor of a human consort, they will be furious. Shang Qinghua will have to bear their bad grace eventually, but Mobei Jun will not risk it while he is still so fragile. He will be safest hidden in the heart of Cang Qiong Sect, where the network of demon-dispelling arrays drawn around the mountain range is strong enough to forbid entry to anyone apart from him and Luo Binghe. 

"Shang Qinghua," he says, curling a hand around one skinny wrist to transfer some more spiritual energy. "Where is the transportation talisman this king gave you." 

Interrupted mid-speech, Shang Qinghua squints at him, uncomprehending. "Huh? Uh...in my robes somewhere? Why, my king?"

Mobei Jun calls forth the talisman. It flies easily to his hand, drawn by his spiritual power. The risk of Shang Qinghua making an impromptu visit to the Northern palace in the middle of his recovery and being promptly assassinated is…significant. Better to be safe than sorry.

He crushes the talisman abruptly in his fist, reducing it to frozen pieces of scrap. "Shang Qinghua. You will return to your An Ding peak until this king comes to retrieve you."

The dreamy expression on Shang Qinghua's face shatters into one of bewildered distress so quickly and obviously that even he isn't inept enough to misread it. 

"My king!" he cries, shocked, his eyes flicking between the shreds of the talisman and Mobei Jun's face. "What - but why?!" 

"This Mobei Jun must leave the palace for some time. Your safety here is compromised while you are recovering."

"What?! But - but where are you going? Maybe I could come with you? I - uh, this servant can help! I can -"

"No. Wait for this king on your An Ding peak."

"But my king! Why can't I stay here? My king, I -"

Mobei Jun shakes his head. "Shang Qinghua. As you are now, you are only a liability to this Mobei Jun."

Shang Qinghua's expression wavers, his mouth falling open in shock. "A - a liability?! But, but I'll recover, my king! I'll be fine in no time! Don't send me away! Hasn't this servant proved his worth?"

"Yes," Mobei Jun says solemnly. "You must recover in safety. Your value to this king is beyond measure." 

"My - my value?" Shang Qinghua parrots, looking distraught. 

"Your importance," Mobei Jun restates. "Your usefulness and ingenuity. Shang Qinghua, your loyalty to this king has not gone unrecognized. Did you think this king would forget the debt owed to you?" 

Mobei Jun has to fight the strong urge to brush a hand across Shang Qinghua's cheek, thinking of the times this man has saved his life. They should be beyond counting by now, with how often he has hauled Shang Qinghua out of some brewing trouble or other, and yet...he can't help but be moved by the memory of Shang Qinghua's decisive actions, his bold words. 

Shang Qinghua makes a little choking sound. "My - my usefulness?"  he stutters. His face is ashen, alternating between white and red. "Debt owed?! What -"

"Yes," Mobei Jun says, bowing his head lightly. "What you did for this king was a great service rendered. This king has repaid it to you in full."

Shang Qinghua had held the weight of a king's life in his small hands, carrying him through this tribulation unscathed. He has done this time and time again. Isn't it poetic and right that he has accomplished the same thing in return? He blinks slowly at Shang Qinghua, feeling pleased. 

Shang Qinghua's face goes completely white. "R-repaid?!" he stutters, looking so faint that Mobei Jun's concern grows sharper. Shang Qinghua must be in worse shape than he initially thought. He draws the blankets briskly up to Shang Qinghua's shoulders, shielding him from the cold. 

"Shang Qinghua. You must return to your An Ding Peak to recover. Do you understand?"

Shang Qinghua stares at him in silence for a long time, his lips moving soundlessly, face pale, eyes hollow. Apprehension swirls within Mobei Jun's chest, tumultuous. If Shang Qinghua objects to returning to An Ding Peak, where else would be safe? Would Luo Binghe allow him to recover at the Underground Palace? But even then, his extended family could send assassins, and Shang Qinghua's safety would not be guaranteed -

"Yes," Shang Qinghua finally says dully, subdued. He swallows thickly and dips his head into a limp little bow, not meeting Mobei Jun's eyes. "As my king commands."

Mobei Jun feels frustration well up in him at the defeated tone of Shang Qinghua's voice. "This is for your safety," he says sharply, unable to hide his unease. Shang Qinghua's words from his dream drift through his mind like a warning, like a threat. 

'You absolutely will not be able to find me again…'  

The thought of Shang Qinghua leaving him again, leaving for good, fills him with a frantic agony that he can't bear. He grits his teeth against the instinctual order that roars up in his throat, the urge to force this infuriating man to stay. He doesn't know the right words to convince Shang Qinghua, but he has to try. 

"Shang Qinghua. You are important," he finally manages, taking Shang Qinghua's despondent face in both hands and giving him a little shake. "This Mobei Jun will not risk your safety in my absence. Do you understand?"

"This servant understands and obeys," Shang Qinghua says dejectedly, radiating misery. 

Mobei Jun sighs. He picks Shang Qinghua up, bundling him up blankets and all, and opens a portal to Shang Qinghua's leisure house on An Ding Peak. It's quiet and dark when he steps through, the shutters drawn shut against the morning light, the smell of paper and ink a familiar and comforting constant. He carries Shang Qinghua to his bed, settling him into it with care before going outside and capturing the first An Ding disciple he sees. 

"Bring the Peak Lord in charge of medicine here right now," he growls, shaking the unfortunate disciple vigorously to get his point across before releasing them, watching them streak dizzily across the courtyard at top speed with some satisfaction. 

"Don't bully my disciples," Shang Qinghua says listlessly when he returns. He's flailing within the nest of blankets, unsuccessfully trying to untangle himself. Mobei Jun glowers at him before stalking over to help. He resettles the blankets in a pile on top of Shang Qinghua and growls when he tries to sit up. 

"Lie down."

"I just want to light the candles and make some tea." Shang Qinghua protests, struggling feebly, still not looking at him.

Mobei Jun rests a heavy hand on Shang Qinghua's chest, exerting pressure until Shang Qinghua slumps back against the cushions, winded. His heart thuds sluggishly against Mobei Jun's palm, so much effort expended for such small movements. He's so fragile

"Lie down," he repeats, eyes narrowed. 

Shang Qinghua's despondent face twists into an expression of obstinate anger, and he opens his mouth to protest when Mobei Jun lets him go abruptly. "This king will do it," he says sharply. He clicks his fingers and sparks of qi dart to every candle in the room, lighting them with a burst of ghostly blue energy that fades quickly into soft orange candlelight. He gives Shang Qinghua a quelling look before getting up to peer suspiciously into the kitchenette attached to the leisure house. 

Shang Qinghua lies in a small slumped ball, curled into himself in worrisome silence as Mobei Jun returns with the necessary supplies. He looks tired and vulnerable, that expression of mute devastation still dominating his face. It fills Mobei Jun's entire chest with disquiet. Shang Qinghua had been so happy earlier. Why is he so upset over this simple step to assure his safety? 

He brews the tea clumsily, skin prickling in the uncomfortable silence between them. Shang Qinghua makes no attempt to break it as he usually would, and Mobei Jun's concern tilts slowly towards exasperation. Of all the times for him to be silent, why now? 

He pours for both of them and sets the cup of tea on the nightstand next to Shang Qinghua. His touch immediately stills the rising steam, turning the drink lukewarm. 

Shang Qinghua's dull eyes flicker to the side, then back to the ceiling. "Thanking my king, but didn't my lord have somewhere he needed to go?" he mutters, eyes downcast. "Why waste your time here with this useless liability of a servant when you have other important things to do."

His voice is acidic, full of blame and censure, self-recriminating. Mobei Jun frowns at him, thunderous, exasperation tipping fully into irritation. Does Shang Qinghua not understand the importance of the tasks that Mobei Jun needs to arrange for a successful courtship? Does he think that Mobei Jun would prefer to leave him here, unguarded and alone while recovering from a poison that nearly took his life? 

"Shang Qinghua -" he starts hotly, before a timid knock at the door of the leisure house interrupts him. 

"Enter," Shang Qinghua calls, before Mobei Jun can order the human disruption to leave. 

The door swings open to reveal a harried-looking An Ding disciple clutching a small paper messenger crane. "Apologies for interrupting Shifu and - and His Excellency! A message from Yue-Zhangmen arrived just now." He bows and offers it from the doorway, holding it stiffly away from his body on his cupped palms, too scared to step completely into the room. 

Shang Qinghua tries to call the paper crane over to him, but he doesn't have enough spiritual energy to make it respond. His face crumples in frustration and Mobei Jun growls. He gives the disciple a glare that could split a block of granite in half and holds out his hand, expectant. 

The disciple, white-faced, knees knocking together, looks heavenward as if he's searching for mercy. Finding none, he makes his way inside on trembling legs, looking like he's about to pass out the entire time. 

"My king," Shang Qinghua says, chiding. He shivers weakly and Mobei Jun realizes that the temperature within the leisure house has dropped several chilling degrees in his displeasure. He snatches the message from the shaking disciple, drops it in Shang Qinghua's hands, and rearranges the blankets fastidiously as Shang Qinghua laboriously unfolds the crane. 

"How did Yue-Zhangmen find out I was back so quickly?" he mutters darkly, squinting at the paper.

A second An Ding disciple staggers into view just as the first one is on the verge of fainting. The second boy nearly crashes headlong into the first disciple in his haste, huffing and puffing as he stutters into a bow. "Shifu! Y-your Excellency! M-mu-shishu is on his way," he gasps, barely maintaining his salute with how hard he's breathing.

"Leave!" Mobei Jun snarls, his patience wearing thin. The two disciples beat an immediate retreat, grateful for the chance to flee. 

"Thank you," Shang Qinghua calls after them, trying to sit up again. Mobei Jun gently flattens him until he lies still, looking mutinous.

He can hear the disturbance outside as the eavesdropping An Ding disciples start to prepare for the arrival of the physician. He knows well enough that there's no welcome for him in Cang Qiong Sect. Better not to complicate things with his presence when the other peak lord arrives, no matter how much he would like to be assured of Shang Qinghua's health. Reluctantly, he removes his hand from Shang Qinghua's chest. "This king must take his leave. There are matters to attend to."

Shang Qinghua slumps into the blanket nest, disconsolate. Try as he might, he can't hide his expression of deep distress. "Yes, my king," he says wretchedly. He looks so small and pathetic, openly miserable over being allowed time to rest and recover in safety and comfort, away from his obligations in the northern palace. 

Mobei Jun sighs. Will he ever understand the convoluted processes that go on within this man's mind? He'd thought they were getting closer, but Shang Qinghua's thoughts remain as opaque as ever. 

There is one critical thing he understands about Shang Qinghua that needs to be resolved right now though. 

"Do not run away," he says sharply, taking Shang Qinghua's chin in hand to stare meaningfully at him. "Do not leave this king, Shang Qinghua. Do you understand?"

Shang Qinghua nods unenthusiastically. He doesn't meet Mobei Jun's eyes, his gaze skidding away despite looking right at him. Mobei Jun exhales sharply, frustrated. 

"You are important, Shang Qinghua. Your safety is of the highest priority to this Mobei Jun."

"Then why are you leaving, my king?!" 

Shang Qinghua's wounded cry cuts like a hot knife into the newly discovered tenderness in Mobei Jun's chest. Shang Qinghua looks mortified to have spoken aloud. He flushes deeply, covering his mouth and stammering apologies. 

Mobei Jun offers his hand and is gratified when Shang Qinghua seizes it. "There are many essential matters that this king must oversee in person," he says, wishing he could explain in a way that Shang Qinghua will understand. "This Mobei Jun would not leave for anything less."

"What matters, my king? Is it revenge? Are you seeking information? An artifact? Whatever it is, I can help, just tell me! Take this servant with you!" Shang Qinghua implores, clutching his fingers tightly. 

Mobei Jun thinks of the knife-edged gauntlet that will be his family's vicious disapproval. He thinks of the tasks before him, the items to be obtained, the many gifts to be commissioned and prepared. He shakes his head. "It is something this Mobei Jun must attend to alone. It will be dangerous, and this king's enemies will take advantage of my absence to do you harm." A growl rumbles through his chest. "This king will not allow that. You must stay here, where you are protected. This Mobei Jun's mind could not rest easy otherwise. Do you understand?" He gives Shang Qinghua's hand a careful squeeze. 

Shang Qinghua still looks worryingly despondent. If only there was some way to properly convey his feelings, to show this frustrating man just how important and how dear he is. He brings Shang Qinghua's hand to his chest, pressing it to his heart. "Shang Qinghua. Rest. Recover. Be well, and trust that this Mobei Jun will return for you as soon as he is able."

Shang Qinghua drags his eyes up to meet Mobei Jun's, reluctance in every pore. "Yes, my king," he says, bowing his head. His fingers twitch in Mobei Jun's grip. "This servant will be waiting faithfully."

"This Mobei Jun will hold you to that." He lets go of Shang Qinghua's hand, hating how it falls limply to the mattress like a dead thing. 

He stands and takes one last long look at Shang Qinghua, engraving the sight of him into memory before opening his portal and stepping through. The next time he returns to An Ding Peak, it will be to bring his future consort back to the home they will share together. 



Shang Qinghua sags in place as the portal closes behind Mobei Jun. Finally alone, he stares up at the ceiling of his leisure house, trying to gather his chaotic thoughts. 

When Mobei Jun had started kissing him out of nowhere upon waking up, Shang Qinghua had thought that maybe, just maybe, there'd be...more to them now. 

There had been a hint of something in the mess of Mobei Jun's inheritance ceremony, the follow-up fiasco with Linguang Jun, and the stoic, heartfelt attempts at noodles afterwards. He doesn't think he imagined how his king's behavior towards him had changed after that, but nothing had happened besides the establishment of a new, slightly more respectful status quo between them. And occasional meals that he can't refuse. 

Right when things were starting to feel normal again, this whole mess with the poison had happened, a continuously expanding disaster that kept getting worse and worse! It just fucking figures that only a near-fatal dual poisoning would allow him to get laid! 

And now…what happens now? 

Nothing, apparently. 

He slaps at the blankets in a fit of frustrated dismay. It's not like his expectations were unrealistic! He's always tempered his feelings with the knowledge that Mobei Jun will someday marry some stunning demon princess and they'll have gorgeous demon children and then he'll forget about Shang Qinghua afterwards! But after the consideration that Mobei Jun had shown towards him…the careful way he'd handled Shang Qinghua when he could have simply done whatever he wanted… he'd thought that maybe there was a chance at something more. 

He would have been content to be a side piece! A retainer with benefits! Not even a concubine! Just something meaningful. Something real and acknowledged and reciprocated between them before that chapter of Mobei Jun's life closed on him and he was inevitably left behind for better things. How stupid. How naive! 

He's obviously been reading too much into things, hoping for something that isn't real except in his mind. Building mountains out of molehills from his king's act of benevolent mercy. Haha, how badly he'd misunderstood things! Thinking that Mobei Jun held some sort of tender emotion towards him when he was simply repaying a life debt that was owed!

And it's not like he got the chance to ask questions or demand answers! Not that he's in any position to be demanding anything of Mobei Jun, but his king had just left without any clarification. Dropping Shang Qinghua off at An Ding Peak like a load of dirty laundry to be cleaned! Nothing more than a liability, a broken tool needing repairs to be useful again. 

Shang Qinghua knows exactly how the rest of this story will play out. He'll recover here on An Ding Peak, and just when he's getting comfortable again, Mobei Jun will show up out of the blue to kidnap him back to the northern palace. He'll expect Shang Qinghua to help him like everything is normal. Like they hadn't - like nothing had ever happened between them. Life would carry on as usual, and he would simply have to make peace with that and continue smiling deferentially. 

The worst part of that is…he thinks he'd be okay with that, as long as Mobei Jun still wanted him around. Isn't that just pathetic! It would be...difficult, he acknowledged, to serve his king appropriately when he now has the memory of how he felt moving inside him. It would be hard not to stare at his king's elegant hands, his beautiful mouth, and not want more and more and more. But Shang Qinghua will just have to manage. Once would have to be enough for a lifetime. Or...twice? Either way, it's not something he gets to have ever again. 

He blinks, and finds that he's crying a little. 

"Stop that!" he tells himself, wiping his face angrily and slapping his cheeks soundly. His king still depends on him! Mobei Jun went out of his way to tell him how valuable he is! He's still very important to Mobei Jun! Indispensable, even!

Maybe it's not exactly in the way he wants, but that doesn't mean his king doesn't care for him Mobei Jun literally went out of his way to say how he was worried for Shang Qinghua's safety! Why else would Mobei Jun stress how important he is if he doesn't care in some way? Who else would help him with the myriad of administrative annoyances that come with ruling? Who else knows exactly how Mobei Jun likes his brushes arranged? Who else knows how to navigate his finished reports? Who else knows how to organize all his information briefings for maximum clarity and speed of processing? No one else, that's who! 

Mobei Jun still cares about him. His king wants him to recover safely so he can continue being useful. That's enough, isn't it? That should be more than enough. 

He resolves to stop feeling bad for himself immediately. 

 

...

 

......

 

He still feels terrible.